





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


ChapTES? Copyright No. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





























































































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4 



“BOAT AHOY ! ” SOME ONE CALLED 
(See page 112) 



HER COLLEGE DAYS 


H Storg for ©trls 



MRS. CLARKE JOHNSON 

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ILLUSTRATED BY IDA WAUGH 



THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
PHILADELPHIA MDCCCXCVI 


I 



Copyright, 1896, by The Penn Publishing Company 


/*-3y;r3 


Franklin Printing Company 

516-518 Minor Street 
Philadelphia 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I Hunting a Home 7 

II The Freshman Frolic 16 

III The Little Rift 28 

IV Little Sister 47 

V The Sophomore Reception 55 

VI Mountain Day 68 

VII Vespers 94 

VIII October Days 109 

IX Tally-Ho for Houghton 123 

X Drear November 138 

XI Last Days 155 

XII Life on the Campus 174 

XIII A Stern Necessity 188 

XIV A Concert at Houghton 203 


5 


6 CONTENTS 

CHAP. PAGE 

XV Basket-Ball 219 

XVI Hope Deferred 230 

XVII Patient Waiting 245 

XVIII The Glee Club Concert 260 

XIX A Letter from St. Mark’s * . . . 276 

XX A Long Journey 288 

XXI Back to Life 312 

XXII In Brighter Climes 329 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


CHAPTER I 

HUNTING A HOME 

One afternoon in early autumn, as the 
“ Limited ” was pulling into Somerfield, there sat 
side by side in the Boston sleeper a fair, sweet- 
faced woman, wearing the subdued gray of half 
mourning, brightened by a touch of heliotrope, 
and a slender, graceful girl with golden-bronze 
hair. The train stopped at the handsome gray 
stone station, the mother and daughter gathered 
up their books and umbrellas, while the assidu- 
ous porter took possession of their bags and saw 
them safely across the tracks and on board the 
Boston & Merrimac train, waiting to bear 
them to Norwood. 

“ Ugh,” said the girl, as they settled them- 
selves in their seats ; “ how it rains ! To think 
of not a drop of rain for two months, and arriving 
at Norwood in a steady downpour.” 


7 


8 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“Yes, it is dismal/' responded her mother, 
“ and in spite of the untold blessing this rain is 
bringing to thousands of people, I can't help 
wishing we had arrived the day before it, or the 
day after, and not just in the midst of it." 

“ What a nice way you have of putting 
things, mamma. Now, of course, I knew how 
much this rain is needed, and that it is saving 
millions of money and perhaps thousands of 
lives ; hut instead of wishing we had come a day 
earlier or a day later, I was just wickedly wishing 
it would stop and let us have a comfortable 
time hunting up a boarding place this afternoon." 

“ Oh ! those hills !" she added, quickly, as 
they swept out of the city and began to follow 
the windings of the river northward, “ that’s 
just one thing we miss at home — the grand old 
hills and the clear, winding streams." 

“ Would you be willing to exchange St. 
Mark's for the New England scenery?" 

“ Oh no, no, no ! I wouldn't exchange dear, 
darling St. Mark’s for anything the world can 
give — not even for Paris or Eome, if it had to 
be for always. But I am glad, since I must be 
away from St. Mark's, that I am to have my 
fill of beautiful rivers and mountains/' 


HUNTING A HOME 


9 


“ And elms,” suggested Mrs. Darcy. “You 
know everybody tells us we will think we have 
never seen elms when we see those of the 
Camelot Valley.” 

“ Oh yes, elms,” sighed Lois, “ the Apollo 
of trees ! How could God make anything so 
beautiful as an elm ?” And the rest of the 
ride was one series of exclamations from the 
enthusiastic girl, as picture after picture, each 
more beautiful than the other, whirled by their 
windows and the last part of their way with 
those stately twin giants, Mt. Hoaryhead and 
Mt. Ben, in attendance, one on either hand, 
Lois said was like a grand triumphal entry into 
Norwood. 

But it was still raining hard, which was not 
quite the thing for a triumphal entry, it made 
the conquering heroes look so slinky and drab- 
bled, Lois commented, as they made a dive for 
the nearest carriage. They had determined 
upon a line of action — to drive to a hotel for 
dinner and then, if the elements still showed no 
signs of relenting, to take a carriage, and, armed 
with their list of boarding-houses, go boldly 
forth in quest of a home. It had not been 
possible for them to engage a boarding place in 


10 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


advance, and they knew now that it was so near 
the opening of college the desirable places were 
probably all taken. So they felt that, in spite 
of the unpropitious weather, they had not a 
moment to lose, and they had a very earnest 
desire to get into their rooms and get settled as 
quickly as possible. 

That was a dreary afternoon’s work. They had 
left home with no provision for rain except their 
umbrellas, and getting in and out of the car- 
riage they soon found themselves as effectually 
drenched as if they had been on foot. Indeed, 
they found the carriage but little help, for the 
places were so close together on Elm Street that 
getting in to ride a few feet seemed a farce. But 
Lois said she hoped it gave them a semblance of 
respectability, and it certainly did help them to 
enter pretty houses, their skirts dripping and 
their shoes squashing over newly-polished floors, 
with an air of confidence it would have been 
difficult to maintain otherwise. 

There were some redeeming features in the 
disagreeable employment. Everywhere they 
found busy housekeepers putting finishing 
touches, to be ready for the rush of girls next 
week ; curtains going up, carpets going down, 


HUNTING A HOME 


11 


the sound of the hammer and the broom pre- 
vailing. But everywhere the busy women, di- 
recting all the work, found time to stop and take 
the kindliest interest in their affairs. No one 
had any place for them, but every one was full 
of suggestions as to where they might find 
rooms, and disinterestedly anxious that they 
should secure a pleasant home. 

The afternoon was fast waning. Their thin, 
low shoes were soaked through, and Mrs. Darcy 
began to fear that if they did not soon find some 
rooms where they could have their baggage and 
get into dry clothes, Lois would be sick with a 
cold, that would be a bad beginning for her col- 
lege life. 

“ We will try this one more place, Lois, and 
if we are not successful there, we will go back 
to the hotel, have our trunks sent up, and try to 
make ourselves comfortable over Sunday.” 

“ Oh ! I can’t bear the thought of that dismal 
hotel, mamma, and I did want to get settled to- 
day,” pleaded Lois. 

“ Yes, I know ; but it is running too great 
a risk. I am chilled through, and you are 
shivering at this moment. We will try Mrs. 
Waters, and if we fail, go back to the hotel.” 


12 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


They found good Mrs. Waters as busy as every- 
body else, directing plumbers and carpet men, 
but also, like everybody else, willing to do all 
she could to help. 

“ I have no rooms,” she said, “ but I think if 
you go across to Mrs. Harding’s, you may find 
some. She doesn’t take boarders, but if you 
don’t mind going out of the house you can come 
here for your meals.” 

That was a new idea, but worth trying. For- 
tunately, Mrs. Harding had two rooms, the best 
they had seen yet for their purpose, large and 
sunny, and well furnished with closets, with a 
dressing-room between them. 

Mrs. Harding rather demurred at the idea of 
having them take possession at once, but when 
Lois pleaded that they could not go back to the 
dreary hotel, she yielded, and Lois flew across 
the street to send the carriage for their trunks 
and tell Mrs. Waters she must expect them to 
supper. She returned to find Mrs. Harding 
making a fire in the open fireplace of the larger 
of the two rooms, the one they had already fixed 
upon as their sitting-room. The open fireplace 
had been one of the features of the room that 
had particularly attracted them, it was so like 
their old home in St. Mark’s. 


HUNTING A HOME 


13 


There was only time before supper to change 
their wet clothing and take their dresses from 
the trunks, shake them out of their folds, and 
hang them in the closets. And after supper, 
tired with their long journey and room hunting, 
they sat before the blazing fire and talked of St. 
Mark’s and the dear friends they had left there, 
until the four years stretching before them began 
to look like a dreary exile from home and loved 
ones. 

“ This will never do, Lois,” said Mrs. Darcy 
at last. “ If we let ourselves think of St. Mark’s 
too much, we will be taking the early train for 
home Monday morning.” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said Lois, stoutly ; “ I may 
long for St. Mark’s and be a little homesick 
sometimes, but I am eager for Gale. Nothing 
could induce me to give up my college career, 
and I intend to make these four years tell, 
mamma dear. I shall be so learned and so 
accomplished and so ‘ improved,’ you will be 
proud of your daughter when we go back to St. 
Mark’s.” 

Mrs. Darcy looked fondly up at her, for Lois 
had risen in her earnestness and was standing 
before the fire. She did not say anything for 


14 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


a moment, her heart was just running over with 
pride and happiness and thankfulness to God 
for giving her such a daughter. When she did 
speak, it was to say, as she glanced around the 
room : 

“ I think we have every reason to be grateful 
for being so comfortably housed this stormy 
night. This is better than I expected, and I 
foresee a very cozy, happy home for us here the 
next four years.” 

“ Yes, and there are such capabilities in this 
room. I am glad the furniture is so nice and 
old-fashioned. That mahogany chest of drawers 
and that beautiful old table with its polished 
top and brass claws are darling. Let’s go to 
bed, mamma, so Monday morning will hurry 
up and come and we can get to work fixing up 
our rooms.” 

All the past was behind Lois now, and she 
was eager for the future. The healthful sleep 
of youth visited her as soon as her head touched 
the pillow, and mingled in her dreams in a 
strange jumble were divans and tea tables for 
her room, and splendid triumphs in college — 
distinguishing herself in her classes, and always, 
as at home, a leader among the girls. 


HUNTING A HOME 


15 


But it was long before Mrs. Darcy fell asleep, 
and when at last she did, her dreams only con- 
tinued her waking thoughts. And they were 
of the dear little home in St. Mark’s, and the 
happy hours she had spent there with the baby 
Lois in her arms, or the golden-haired little girl 
running in and out, or the fair young maiden 
full of eager ambitions. Baby, child, and maiden, 
filling the house with sunshine, and the mother’s 
heart with love and happiness. 


CHAPTEK II 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 

The next week was a happy and a busy one 
for Lois and her mother. By the time the day 
of the college opening arrived their rooms were 
cozy and pretty with hangings, hooks, rugs, and 
pictures from home, and dainty frilled muslin 
at the windows. In one corner, Lois’s special 
corner, was the coveted divan piled high with 
sofa pillows, and on one end of the white fur 
rug in front of it stood the pretty tea table with 
its shining brass samovar .and delicate china. 

There were no examinations for Lois to take. 
She had entered Classical on a certificate from 
her school, and so was saved the dreaded ordeal. 
She had not realized until she saw the anxious 
faces of the Literaries and Scientifics how much 
she had escaped. 

The traditional “ Freshman rain ” was falling 
in a monotonous drizzle as the girls and their 
friends filled to overflowing the beautiful chapel. 
The college bell ceased tolling, and instantly the 
16 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 


17 


sweet voices of eiglit hundred girls, clear, ring- 
ing sopranos and rich altos, accompanied by the 
low rolling bass of the organ rose in the chant 
for the day. Then the President read the one 
hundred and twenty-third Psalm — stirring, in- 
spiring, comforting words, and in the prayer 
that followed he seemed to know every heart 
bowed before him, and presented its inmost 
desire in his petitions. 

At the close of the prayer many of the new 
girls raised their heads, but quickly dropped 
them again as they saw the old ones remained 
bowed. Then softly the choir and the girls 
chanted, “ Our Father who art in heaven.” 

Lois’s heart, made very tender by the beauti- 
ful devotional service, was thrilled with aspira- 
tion and resolve, and her mother’s went out in 
love and longing and prayer for the young life 
just starting out in untried paths. 

The President’s address, with its kindly words 
of welcome to the old girls and the new, followed, 
and then came a thrilling moment. The first 
class girls were requested to remain after the 
chapel service, and as soon as the upper classes 
had filed out, the Greek Professor stepped to 
the front with a formidable roll of narrow white 
2 


18 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


paper. Yards upon yards of it there seemed to 
be as he shook it loose from the roll to begin, at 
the inner end. Every girl knew that her fate 
was inscribed on those sibylline leaves and in 
breathless silence they awaited the utterance of 
the oracle. There were audible sighs of relief 
as some uncertain candidate heard her name, and 
sometimes when an anxious listener found her 
letter of the alphabet finished and her name not 
read, there was a sudden blanching of the 
strained face, or quick-springing tears, or even 
an occasional irrepressible sob. It was a trying 
ordeal and the Professor, kind-hearted, jolly, and 
beloved of his pupils, tried to relieve the nerv- 
ous strain by occasional witty comments that 
called forth a ready laugh from at least the first 
part of the alphabet where the tension was re- 
laxed. But it was over at last, and in out-of- 
the-way corners there were some harrowing 
scenes — a daughter throwing herself on her 
father’s neck and sobbing bitterly, “I can never 
go home. I am disgraced, disgraced ” — and the 
father, speechless and trembling for his child. 
White-faced girls with mothers almost as white, 
trying in vain to console them, and one irate 
parent from the rural districts loudly declaring 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 19 

that it was all favoritism. “ Gale don’t want 
any but rich city girls. Mirandy was head of 
her class to hum and I guess she knows as much 
as most girls.” 

But it was a large and happy majority who 
began the work of the day, arranging studies 
for the coming term, meeting class teachers for 
the assigning of lessons, and making silent com- 
ments on and estimates of their classmates. 
Mrs. Darcy was almost as happy and busy as 
Lois, going about with her from one class-room 
to another, and helping her to decide on her 
electives. Lois was to take vocal music, that 
they had decided upon even if it involved the 
sacrifice of some little luxuries, for Lois’s best 
gift was a rich, sweet voice, and she was old 
enough now to begin its cultivation. So to- 
gether they went over to Music Hall and met 
‘the stately, golden-haired secretary of the Music 
school, and when Lois found herself really 
registered for vocal lessons under a distinguished 
teacher, she felt that one of the darling ambi- 
tions of her life was at last being realized. She 
had always sung like a bird, but an untaught 
bird. She had been young enough, her mother 
thought, to wait for the lessons, and all the time 


20 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


and money there had been to spare had been 
put upon the piano. She was quite trembling 
with happiness and perhaps awe when the secre- 
tary took her down and introduced her to Frau 
Yon Helfenstein, who sent her to the other side 
of the room and requested her to sing the scale 
for her. A rather faint and quavery scale, her 
mother thought, that gave but little idea of 
Lois’s full, rich voice, but the Frau Yon Hel- 
fenstein seemed to find something in it, for she 
ejaculated, “Gut! gut!” several times, as she 
had her sing it over and over. 

“Ah, I will make a fine singer of your daugh- 
ter, madam,” she said to Mrs. Darcy as the in- 
terview closed, and it would be hard to tell 
whose heart swelled highest at the words, the 
mother’s or the daughter’s. 

That was a very happy first day at college, 
and the second was even more so, for at chapel 
the President announced that the Association 
for Christian Work would give a reception to 
the first class in the gymnasium that evening at 
seven. It was Lois’s introduction to the college 
dances, those unique entertainments peculiar to 
women’s colleges, but finding their highest de- 
velopment at Gale. 


THE FKESHMAN FKOLIC 


21 


It was pretty thoroughly discussed at Mrs. 
Waters’s dinner table at noon. 

“ What kind of a reception will it be, Mrs. 
Waters? It sounds kind of poky; do you 
think we will enjoy going?” asked a vivacious, 
short-haired brunette from Chicago. 

“ It will be very informal,” replied Mrs. 
Waters. “ There will be a reception committee 
to introduce you to the old girls, and then a 
little dance.” 

“ Dance ! The Association for Christian Work 
give us a dance!” (she made it rhyme with 
haunts), said a calm-eyed Boston Freshman. 

“Oh! yes. The girls have nick-named it 
‘ The Christian Dance.’ It is always the first 
event of the season, given to make the Fresh- 
men feel at home.” 

“And I call that good Christian work,” said 
Mrs. Darcy, “to help the Freshmen over the 
first homesickness.” 

“ I am so glad there is to be dancing,” said 
the Chicago brunette, Miss Arden, looking 
across the table at Lois for sympathy. 

“So am I. May I have a two-step with 
you ?” responded Lois, promptly. 

‘ Oh ! won’t there be any men there ?” ex- 


22 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


claimed Miss Arden, and her blank face was 
greeted with peals of laughter. 

“Men !” said Miss Hewitt, a Sophomore, and 
therefore an authority on all college matters. 
“ Put aside the thought of men, Miss Arden, 
until you are a Junior. Juniors and Seniors 
may invite men to their dances, but nobody else.” 

“ Then I don’t see how you can have any 
fun,” said Miss Arden, frankly. 

“ Wait till you have been to a few of the col- 
lege dances; you will find you can have just as 
nice a time without men as with them.” 

Miss Arden looked incredulous, but Miss 
Doddridge, of Boston, gave her no chance to 
reply. 

“ How about dressing when there are no 
men ; do we wear our smart frocks ?” 

“ Not for this first one ; this is perfectly in- 
formal; any light, pretty dress will do. But 
just wait until the Sophomores give their re- 
ception to the Freshmen ; it’s awfully swell. 
Everbody wears their smartest gowns, and if 
they haven’t any smart enough, they have one 
made for the occasion.” 

“ Do the Sophomores give us a reception, too? 
Oh! how lovely!” exclaimed Lois, delightedly. 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 


“ Yes ; that’s one of the ways we Sophomores 
have of rushing you Freshmen,” responded 
Miss Hewitt, complacently. “And we think it 
is a far better way than cane fights and hazing.” 

“ If only the men would learn a lesson from 
you, what a stride forward in the line of civili- 
zation it would be,” said Mrs. Darcy. 

They were just rising from the table and Lois 
glanced across at Miss Arden. 

“You haven’t given me my answer yet. Am 
I to have a two-step with you to-night ?” 

“ Oh ! I beg your pardon,” said Miss Arden, 
hastily. “ The idea of no men was such a shock 
to me I forgot all about it. Of course, I shall 
be most happy, Miss Darcy, since I can’t have 
a man,” with a saucy grimace. 

The moon was at its full, and Mrs. Darcy 
and Lois thought they had not often seen any- 
thing more beautiful than winding Elm Street, 
so heavily arched by the beautiful trees that 
gave it its name that only patches and deckings 
of the mellow light found their way to the side- 
walk. The college buildings that by daylight 
had seemed a little plain and disappointing to 
Lois, who had expected so much, were trans- 
figured. Their ivied walls in the soft light 


24 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


might well be gray old cloisters, and as they 
left the street and entered the campus, shut in by 
the outer quadrangle of buildings, Lois uttered 
an exclamation of delight. College Hall, 
Music Hall, Art Hall, and Science Hall stood 
dim and dark like sentinels on the outskirts ; 
but within the quadrangle every college house 
was ablaze with lights. Harvey and Horton 
and Washington and Wallace and Jefferson and 
Hamilton and Morgan, and old Dana, while 
high over the centre swung the silver lamp of 
the full moon, drenching with its shining flood, 
trees and grass, dim sentinel halls and spark- 
ling houses. 

They had stopped involuntarily to take in the 
full beauty of the picture, and now, as they 
went on, Lois said : 

“You know, mamma, how disappointed we 
felt about the campus of Gale when we first saw 
it. It seemed such a pity the college could not 
have been built where it would have had more 
room. But I believe I am beginning to like 
this, there is such a classic air about it. It 
always reminds me of the Canterbury School in 
‘ David Copper field,’ and ‘ the close ’ where good 
old Dr. Strong used to take his walks, I never 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 


25 


come into the campus but I feel like calling it 
‘ the close/ ” 

“ Now that is strange,” said her mother. “ I 
have caught myself calling it ‘ the close ’ several 
times. It is because it is so shut in, I suppose. 
It wouldn’t be very difficult in this light to 
fancy these were cloistered walls. But see ; we 
are away behind Mrs. Waters and the girls. We 
won’t either of us know what to do when we get 
to the gymnasium.” 

Their party was waiting for them at the 
gymnasium door, and the girls seized on Lois 
and carried her off with them to be duly tagged, 
with their respective names written on a piece 
of white paper. And then some waiting Sopho- 
mores took them in charge, and, thanks to the 
tags, called them at once by name and supplied 
them with partners, also tagged, for the first 
dance. 

In the meantime, Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. 
Waters had gone in another direction, to the 
galleries, where they could look down on the 
gay scene. It was a warm evening, and most 
of the girls were in their organdies and lawns 
and muslins. Four hundred girls moved rhyth- 
mically to the inspiring strains of “ Auf Wieder- 


26 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


sehen,” and not a black coat among them to mar 
the soft blending of the flower-like hues. It 
was a novel and a beautiful sight, and Mrs. 
Darcy felt a little thrill of gratified vanity when, 
among so many beautiful girls beautifully 
dressed, none looked lovelier than Lois in her 
pretty gown of pale-green organdie, flowered 
with white carnations and trimmed with dainty 
green ribbons and soft lace. 

For Lois it was an occasion of unqualified de- 
light. Just to be dancing was happiness enough. 
Her little feet would have found it hard work to 
keep still, with such instant sympathy did they 
respond to the first strains of a waltz, or a deux 
temps ; but it was not necessary to fetter them. 
There were partners in abundance, always pro- 
vided for her by some polite and attentive 
Sophomore, and the floor was like glass ; what 
more could she want ? 

In the mazes of a waltz, she met Miss Arden. 
“ How are you getting on without any men ?” 
asked Lois. 

“ Oh ! isn’t it lovely ?” said the little brunette, 
inconsequently, her eyes shining and her cheeks 
glowing. But that was all she saw of Miss 
Arden until time to go home. The Sophomores 


THE FRESHMAN FROLIC 


27 


kept them both so thoroughly supplied with 
partners there was no chance for their two-step. 

Lois was in the midst of a delightful dance 
with a partner who exactly suited her step, when 
they were rudely interrupted — or they thought 
it rude — by some one coming to tell them the 
lights would be out in a few minutes, and the 
“ Freshman Frolic ” was over. As they en- 
tered their pretty sitting-room, Lois was still re- 
hearsing the delights of the evening to her 
mother; it had been her theme all the way home. 

“ I never had a better time in my life, 
mamma, and see, it is only just ten o’clock.” 

“ Yes, that is one of the nice things about it. 
It is such a sensible way for girls to enjoy them- 
selves — go at seven and home before ten. No 
late suppers, no wall-flowers, and no men ; just 
a good time among themselves. Did you know, 
Lois, that you still have your tag on ?” 

“ Oh yes ! I kept it on purpose. That is for 
my memory book — my sole souvenir of the 
‘ Freshman Frolic/ ” 


CHAPTER III 


THE LITTLE EIFT 

Those early days of college life were happy 
ones to Lois and her mother, and they often 
recalled them in darker hours as among the very 
happiest in their lives. Every morning Mrs. 
Darcy walked down to the college with Lois, 
“ for a constitutional,” she said, but really that 
she might have the little walk and talk with her 
darling through the beautiful golden September 
mornings ; and every day Lois came back with 
such a budget of college gossip for the mother 
at home. Everything was so new and interest- 
ing to the eager girl, while her mother was 
interested in anything that concerned Lois 
even in the remotest way. Sometimes it was 
a new acquaintance she had made among her 
classmates. Or an upper-class girl had intro- 
duced herself and said she was coming to 
call; a courtesy which Lois especially appre- 
ciated, for she had had an idea that Juniors and 
Seniors, if they did not actually look down 
28 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


29 


on Freshmen, at least ignored them. Sometimes 
it was an invitation to a dance at one of the col- 
lege houses, or some funny incident of the class- 
room, or a complimentary speech she had over- 
heard about herself. Once it was an invitation to 
dinner with a Senior at the Hamilton House and 
chocolate afterward in the Senior’s room, with 
some of the girls invited in to drink it with her. 
Indeed the invitations came so fast to suppers, 
dinners, spreads, and dances that Mrs. Darcy 
began to fear that the social part of college life 
was in danger of overshadowing the studies, 
but Lois assured her that it was not, and she 
had such confidence in her daughter’s ambition 
and conscientiousness that she did not have any 
great fears. 

“ Well, mamma,” said Lois one day, as she 
came into the sunny little sitting-room and laid 
down her pile of books, “ somebody said I was 
a ‘ prod ’ in geometry to-day.” 

“ A prod ; what is a prod, Lois ?” 

Lois laughed at her mother’s anxious coun- 
tenance. 

“ Don’t be alarmed, mamma dear, it isn’t 
anything very bad. It’s short for prodigy, and 
when they think a girl is a little smarter than 


30 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


ordinary they call her a ‘ prod.’ I don’t think 
I am one, but I asked Miss Cutting some ques- 
tions in class this morning, and the girl next to 
me whispered, ‘ My ! what a prod you are ! 
How do you think of all those things ?’ ” 

“ Oh ! that is it, is it ? Well, I don’t care how 
much they call you a 4 prod.’ That is exactly 
what I want you to be.” 

“ Oh ! you vain mamma ! I wonder if it would 
turn your head completely if I should tell you 
of a compliment I had from my Latin professor 
this morning.” 

“ Tell me, dear ; I promise to try to be 
humble. ” 

“ You know I have told you before how likely 
he is to continually interrupt you when you are 
translating, and make you feel as if you had 
made such a poor recitation. This morning, 
luckily for me, when he called on me to recite, 
he was at one end of the room and his book on 
his desk at the other. So I plunged in and 
read straight through the paragraph, hardly 
stopping for breath, and had translated quite a 
long and difficult passage before he had had time 
to more than get his book and find the place. 
But he is the smartest man I ever saw, if he 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


31 


does sometimes make us appear like dunces. He 
knows his Livy by heart, text and all, and when 
I finished, he said : 

“ ‘ That’s right, Miss Darcy, that’s right, very 
good,’ and even after he had called on some 
one else, he came back to me and said, 

“ ‘ That was very good indeed, Miss Darcy.’ 
Now do you think your daughter is neglecting 
her studies for society ?” 

Her mother smiled. “ And do you think I 
am the only one in danger of having her head 
turned ?” 

“ Oh ! you don’t really think I am vain, do 
you, mamma? 'I tell you these things because 
I think you like to hear them, but I wouldn’t 
tell them to anybody else. As to the girl calling 
me a 4 prod,’ that doesn’t amount to anything. 
I should never think of it again. I was pleased 
to have my professor compliment me. I ad- 
mire him greatly, and I have come to the 
conclusion that the reason I did not quite 
understand his method of teaching at first was 
because it is more scholarly than I have been 
accustomed to in a preparatory school. It is 
rather unusual for him to be complimentary, 
and it only made me feel all the more anxious 


32 


HER COLLEGE RAYS 


to keep his good opinion if I had won it. But 
if you think it sounds vain in me to be repeat- 
ing such a thing, I never will again.” 

“ Oh ! no, Lois ; only tell me everything. 
Don’t shut me out of your life, darling. It is 
just those things I love to hear, and you may 
be sure I know you too well to really accuse you 
of vanity.” 

“ Then I shall tell you everything, shall I, 
mamma? You know you can’t go to college 
with me and you don’t have the girls and the 
classes and everything to keep you jolly, and 
sometimes I am afraid you are lonely here by 
yourself so much of the time, and perhaps you 
are homesick for St. Mark’s, and I don’t want 
you to be homesick, mamma dear.” 

Lois spoke with an intensity that startled her 
mother. She had taken a low seat at her feet 
and was looking up wistfully in her face. 

“Only say you’re not homesick, mamma. 
It makes me feel so unhappy ; all the good 
times for me and all the loneliness for you.” 

“ Why, Lois darling,” said her mother, fondly 
brushing back the bright, willful little curls. 
“ What makes you think I am homesick ? I 
am happier here with you than I could possibly 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


33 


be anywhere on earth, even St. Mark’s. Only let 
me have a share in all your life, every nice thing 
and every unpleasant thing, all your successes and 
failures at college, and I will never feel lonely.” 

Lois sat silent, her eyes dropped. She was 
thinking, “ Shall I tell her what has so stirred 
me up this morning ?” But the answer came 
quickly, “ No, that is impossible. It made me 
angry, but it might make mamma unhappy. 
There is no use of that. It was only those silly 
girls. I will forget all about it.” 

So she lifted her face to her mother again. 
“ I promise you, mamma dear, anything that is 
the least bit worth repeating I will tell you. 
And now this afternoon you and I must have a 
nice long walk. What with the studies and the 
girls, I don’t seem to find time any more for 
walks, and so my poor mamma sits alone like 
* Mariana in the Moated Grange.’ But this is 
Wednesday, and we will just go off together and 
have a good time. And now,” leaning tenderly 
over her mother while she gave her a good hug, 
warmer, if that could be possible, than usual, 
“ I am going to study my Greek and that will 
be off my mind, and we will have nothing to do 
but enjoy ourselves this afternoon.” 

3 


34 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois had gone down to college a little early 
that morning, and had gone into the reading- 
room to spend the interval until chapel in look- 
ing over her Livy. So much engaged was she 
with her head bent over her book, that she did 
not observe two girls come in and, seating them- 
selves near her, begin a whispered conversation. 
Nor did she hear anything that was said until 
suddenly the sound of her own name attracted 
her notice, and then, in spite of her best efforts 
to fix her attention on her book, she could not 
help hearing most that followed. 

“ Lid you meet her at Josie Hilton’s dance ?” 

“ Yes, an awfully pretty girl, and one of the 
best dancers there.” 

“ It’s a pity she is such a baby !” 

“ Why, what do you mean ?” 

“ Just tied to her mother’s apron strings. 
Her mother is here with her and will be with 
her the whole four years. They walk down to 
college together every morning, and Miss Larcy 
can’t do a thing without asking her mother 
first.” 

“ But how do you know ?” 

“ Oh ! I have seen some of it myself, and I 
have heard the girls talk about it. Kate New- 


THE LITTLE LIFT 


35 


ton knew them in St. Mark’s, and she says it 
must have been an awful sacrifice for her mother 
to have given up her home there and come here. 
She has so many friends there, and is head and 
front of everything that goes on in her circle ; 
and here she does nothing but sit in the house 
all day and wait for Lois to come home. I would 
not let my mother make such a sacrifice for me.” 

“ Perhaps it’s her mother’s doing. Perhaps 
she wouldn’t let her go away without her. She 
may be one of those mothers so wrapped up in 
her daughter, she can’t live without her.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder. They say she is per- 
fectly silly about her. But I think it’s a great 
pity. A girl can’t get the benefit of being away 
from home if she has to be hampered with a 
mother. Of course she can never go on the 
campus, and I think you lose half the advan- 
tage, and all the fun of college life if you are not 
on the campus. It’s a regular shame. She’s 
pretty and jolly, plays tennis well, dances beau- 
tifully, and sings like a lark. She could lead her 
class as easily as not, but it’s just going to spoil 
her college career. If her mother had only 
known enough to stay at home and let her 
daughter out of leading strings I” 


36 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


It was at this juncture that Lois, who had 
been sitting rigidly incapable of movement, the 
hot blood boiling within her and swelling- 
higher and higher, until it boiled over into her 
flaming cheeks at hearing her precious mother 
so maligned, as she called it, gathered up her 
books, and with her head high in the air, and 
one superbly indignant glance at the two girls, 
left the room. 

As for the two girls, with a startled recogni- 
tion and one low, intense, grammarless exclama- 
tion, “ It’s her !” they cowered a few moments 
in abject silence, their cheeks as scarlet as Lois’s. 

It was the principal speaker who recovered 
first. 

“ I don’t care. I hope it will do her good. 
I didn’t suppose she could be mean enough to 
be an eavesdropper !” 

Lois had recognized one of the speakers as a 
girl whom she had met at several of the dances, 
who had been rather oppressive in her atten- 
tions, and to whom she had not been particu- 
larly attracted. Now her whole generous soul 
was up in arms. “ How dare they talk so of 
her darling mother !” She would never speak 
to that Miss Eastman again. Now she saw 


THE LITTLE LIFT 


37 


f 

why she had instinctively felt that there was 
something disagreeable and common about her. 

All through chapel she tried to calm her 
perturbed spirit. Over and over she resolved 
to forget all about it ; the idle words of two silly 
girls — they were not worth remembering. But 
some things they had said kept coming back to 
her. Was it selfish in her to let her mother 
give up all her friends in St. Mark’s for her ? 
And was she lonely sitting at home all day ? 
She always met her with such a bright smile, 
and was so interested in all her college experi- 
ences that Lois was in danger of forgetting that 
the hours must be long and lonely when she 
was away. Then she resolved that she would 
not spend so much of her leisure with the girls, 
but devote more of it to her mother. This very 
afternoon fortunately was a half holiday and a 
beautiful day ; they would go off somewhere for 
a ramble together, such as she knew her mother 
dearly loved, a regular tramp “ over the hills 
and far away.” 

And that was the reason why her mother could 
not quite understand Lois’s intense and rather 
unusual tenderness. She sat musing over it 
with little tender throbbings of the heart, while 


38 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois was getting her Greek. She had been 
a little lonely of late. Lois had been off on so 
many little expeditions with the girls and her 
mother had been so glad to have her go, realiz- 
ing that the best thing in the world for her 
child was plenty of bright young companion- 
ship, and dreading most of all that she should 
selfishly make too many demands on her time, 
and so be a hindrance instead of a help and a 
comfort in her college life. Yet, nevertheless, 
she had been lonely. She had not owned it to 
herself, but she realized it now, and the thought 
of the afternoon’s pleasure in prospect made her 
eyes sparkle with the pleased anticipation of a 
child. 

A soft haze, purple against the distant hills 
but golden all about them, invested the day 
with the peculiar charm of late September in 
New England. As they stepped from their 
piazza a Pond Village car was just coming up 
the street. They had found it hard to decide 
which way to go ; they wanted to make the 
most of their afternoon. 

“ Suppose we go to see the lilies,” proposed 
Mrs. Darcy, “ the frost may come any day, and 
then we will be too late.” 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


39 


“ The very idea !” responded Lois. “ I heard 
this morning that the Victoria Regia is prob- 
ably in bloom. I intended to tell you and for- 
got all about it.” 

“ Then, of course, we’ll go there. Stop the 
car, Lois, quick !” 

It was a short ride, on the swift electric, to 
the little factory village nestling among the 
hills. The conductor directed them how to find 
the lilies, and a few minutes’ walk took them to 
the ivy-covered mill buildings with their taste- 
ful surroundings, and the wonderful ponds en- 
closed in tropical foliage, and bearing on their 
bosoms lilies from every clime. Lotus flowers 
from Egypt, great, blue Australian lilies, deep 
red East Indian lilies, and wonderful pink and 
white and yellow lilies floated on strangely- 
shaped and colored pads about the margin of the 
larger pond, but left the centre entirely free for 
the peerless Victoria Regia. Its great, heavily- 
veined and spiked leaves, with abruptly turned- 
up margins, floated widely over the surface of 
the water in every stage of unfolding, and from 
the midst of them sprang one perfect flower. Like 
the leaves, it was a giant among lilies, with creamy 
petals fast turning to rose toward the centre. 


40 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


They found the owner of the mills and the 
lilies standing on the margin of the pond, his 
gaze fixed on the queenly flower, “ worshiping 
it,” Lois said. An ardent lover of flowers and of 
nature, he spent all his spare time in beautify- 
ing the precincts of the factory, and cultivating 
rare plants with wonderful success. He was 
very ready to give them all the information he 
could about the lilies — their names and their 
habits, and then told them to dip their hands 
in the water. To their surprise it was warm, 
and that, he said, was the secret of his success. 
The steam from the mills conducted into the 
water gave it a tropical temperature and the 
exotics thrived in it. They lingered a while 
longer among the ponds and fern gardens, and 
exploring little paths that led them through bits 
of woodland bordering the mill-race, until it sud- 
denly occurred to them that it was still early, 
and they would have time to catch the 3.10 
car for Fredericsburg, a trip they had long 
been trying to find time for. They walked 
back to the little post-office, where the car 
started, and no car being in sight, concluded to 
walk to the junction, where they would meet 
the F redericsburg car. They started off briskly, 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


41 


but were led into many digressions after apples, 
rosy-cheeked and golden, from orchards on both 
sides of the road. It was one of the wonders 
of this Northern land — the wealth of the 
orchards — and, to Mrs. Darcy, an ardent apple- 
lover, they were irresistible. She filled her 
pockets at one wayside tree with golden apples, 
only to discard them at the next for more 
tempting, rosy-cheeked ones, and arrived at the 
junction, finally, with every pocket stuffed, like 
any small boy. 

*' I am not sure but I’ll be ashamed to get on 
the car with you, mamma, you have such a sus- 
piciously bulgy look,” said Lois, saucily. “ And 
what luck ! I was certain your foraging would 
make us miss the car, but we are just in time ; 
here it comes.” 

“ Shall we sit in front, Lois, with the motor- 
man ? We can see so much better.” 

“ By all means. We can’t eat apples inside, 
you know, and if it is rather windy you won’t 
mind, I suppose.” 

Her mother responded to her look rather 
than to her words. 

“ Lois ! How can you accuse me of such 
duplicity ? I may be fond of apples, but you 


42 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


know it’s the scenery I really care for. I have 
a great mind not to eat one of them.” 

“ What, the views ?” said Lois, demurely, as 
she gave her mother a helping hand into the 
seat behind the motor-man. 

“ No, heartless creature ! And now not a 
single apple shall I eat until I am safe in the 
‘ privacy of my own apartment ’ from the rude 
comments of an unfriendly world and a carping 
daughter’s criticisms. And then won’t you feel 
sorry when you see your mother famishing 
before your very eyes ?” 

“ I don’t seem to feel any compunctions yet. 
I’ll wait until I see which wins. I think I 
would always be safe in backing the overcoming 
power of a red apple against any small resolu- 
tions you may make.” 

And so on with their childish banter, keeping 
it up in the very excess of delight in being on 
a little lark of their very own, they two and no 
more. 

As Lois often said, that was one thing she 
liked about her mother, she was so congenial. 
She sometimes saw mothers and daughters that 
seemed to be afraid of each other and never had 
any good times together. And often she said, 


THE LITTLE RIFT 


43 


“ I am so glad you are not like Mrs. Smith or 
Mrs. Jones. I don’t think I could enjoy you if 
you were.” 

In fact, their friends said Mrs. Darcy and 
Lois seemed to be just the same age, except you 
might occasionally take Lois to be the older, 
when she pretended to be shocked at some willful 
violation of the small conventionalities by her 
mother. 

And they were just as happy as two girls 
could be while the electric car whirled them 
through the pretty village of Bracken. Past the 
village green, with its imposing Cosmian Hall, 
usurping the place of the usual village church ; 
past the tasteful Tully Library ; past the great 
silk mills ; coasting down long inclines at a pace 
that Lois enjoyed thoroughly, but that made 
Mrs. Darcy clutch her daughter and hold her 
breath until they were safely on a level again ; 
through the picturesque village of York; past 
more silk mills ; winding along by the Mad 
River, now dashing dark and clear over its 
rocky bed, now spreading out into a broad mill- 
pond, with the water pouring over a high dam 
in quite a grand fashion ; sometimes under over- 
hanging cliffs ; sometimes through long stretches 


44 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


of lovely woodland ; then through another fac- 
tory village more picturesque than the last, 
where the rollicking stream was conducted 
sedately through the village between stone 
embankments, and where twenty years be- 
fore, the motor-man told them, had occurred 
the awful “ Mad River disaster/’ when the 
mountain torrent had risen in the night and 
swept away all the lower part of the village, 
bearing down to death hundreds of lives ; then 
leaving Hortonville through wilder and more 
picturesque scenery, until they reached the end 
of their route in the little mountain town of 
Fredericsburg. 

They spent an hour wandering about its ir- 
regular, straggling streets, one of them taking 
them ujd the mountain side past an old grave- 
yard, where their antiquarian researches were 
rewarded by many a delightful epitaph, as quaint 
as heart could wish ; and another taking them 
down by the river past more factories, as insep- 
arable from a New England village as the elms, 
and almost as picturesque. When they were 
facing home again, still in the front seat by the 
motor-man, the fresh wind blowing the curls all 
about Lois’s face, and kindling the roses in her 


THE LITTLE KlET 


45 


mother’s, they both agreed it had been a glorious 
trip and one they should often take. 

Mrs. Darcy was frankly and undisguisedly 
eating an apple. She had begun by slipping 
one from her pocket to her lap, where an occa- 
sional stolen glance rested lovingly on it. And 
then, the temptation growing stronger with every 
returning look, she indulged in a surreptitious 
bite now and then when she thought Lois was 
deeply engrossed in the scenery. But being 
caught once in the very act, she threw away all 
disguise and boldly offered one to Lois and one 
to the friendly motor-man, who had volunteered 
much valuable information all along their route. 

And now, in returning, they saw the reversed 
side of the picture, and it gave them all the 
effect of entirely new views. Especially in 
coming down the incline from Bracken, when 
Mt. Ben and Mt. Hoaryhead rose before them, 
every tree and every rock on their hoary sides 
brought out in strong relief by the low western 
sun reflected dazzlingly from the great summer 
hotels crowning the crest of each. 

They had barely time to smooth their wind- 
blown hair before supper, and they came to the 
table with shining eyes and rosy cheeks, and 


46 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


appetites not only unimpaired by the apples, but 
with a keenness that turned the bread and butter 
into ambrosia and the glass of creamy milk into 
nectar. 

And, then such a nice talk as they had after 
supper before their cozy fire. It was one of the 
few evenings that Lois neither had to study nor 
was due at a dance, and they spent it in loving 
memories of the past, and in making many 
happy plans for the future. 

When their heads rested at last on their re- 
spective pillows, sleep needed no wooing ; their 
windy ride followed by their evening before the 
blazing fire proved a powerful and speedy sopo- 
rific. 

Lois’s last waking thoughts were two — 
dreamily, “ I know mamma has been very 
happy this afternoon ; and how pretty and how 
young she looked, with her dancing eyes and 
happy laugh. I was awfully proud of her at 
supper.” 

And still more dreamily — “ I wonder if I do 
seem babyish and tied to my mother’s apron 
strings.” 


I 


CHAPTER IV 

LITTLE SISTER 

Lois came home one morning brimming with 
delight. Her little feet fairly danced along 
Elm Street, and her mother knew, as soon as she 
caught sight of her radiant face, that something 
nice had happened. 

“ What is it, Lois ?” she said when she had 
received the home-coming kiss that was as much 
of necessity to Lois as to her mother. 

“ You never could guess, mamma dear. You 
know the Sunday I took dinner with Miss Wil- 
lis at the Hamilton House? Well, after dinner 
we sang hymns in the parlor and Miss Felton 
was there. She is the leader of the Glee Club, 
and sings and plays beautifully. It seems she 
noticed my singing and liked it, and she has in- 
vited me to join the Glee Club. Oh ! I am so 
glad !” 

“ That is nice, darling. I am glad, too, and 
just a little proud.” 

“Oh! you mustn’t be proud, mamma. I 

47 


48 


HEU college lays 


don’t believe I sing half as well as any of the 
others, but what fun it will be ! The rehearsals 
and then the concerts! Just think of your 
daughter a concert singer !” 

“But have you given your answer yet? 
Have you accepted ?” 

“Why, yes,” said Lois, hesitating a little. 
“ I thought at first I would tell her that I must 
consult you, and then I thought you wouldn’t 
mind, and I had better decide it for myself. 
You know if it had been any of the other girls 
who have no mothers here, they would have had 
to decide it for themselves. You don’t mind ; 
do you ?” 

“ No, not this time ; but, Lois dear, as long as 
you have a mother that you can consult so easily, 
I think I always would in any matter of import- 
ance. And then you must not forget how much 
younger you are than most of the girls, and per- 
haps you really need advice more than they.” 

“ But that’s just it, mamma, I believe. Be- 
cause I know I am younger I am so afraid of 
appearing young. I don’t like to seem like a 
baby.” 

“ You don’t mean, dearie, do you, that you 
don’t like to have your mamma advise you ? 


LITTLE SISTEK 


49 


That you would like to be independent and act 
just as if you hadn’t any mother here?” 

Mrs. Darcy spoke with a quick little pang at 
her heart. Was her little birdling tiring of the 
mother nest and longing to stretch its wings and 
fly away? 

Lois’s quick ear of love and her half guilty 
consciousness detected the note of pain in her 
mother’s speech, and she spoke hastily. 

“ Oh ! no, no, mamma dear. Don’t you sup- 
pose I realize how much better off I am than all 
the other girls ? Of course I do, and I always 
like to talk things over with you first ; but 
there is a rehearsal to-night, and I thought I 
had better give her my answer right away, and 
then I could go to the rehearsal. And I didn’t 
think you would care.” 

“And I don’t, Mignonette,” said Mrs. Darcy, 
not only quickly appeased, but repentant that 
she should have doubted her darling for a 
moment. It was her baby pet name for Lois, 
but it had fallen into disuse of late years, and 
now she only used it occasionally when stirred 
by some quick feeling. 

Lois recognized what it meant when her 
mother called her “Mignonette.” And she 
4 


50 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


came and sat down beside her and took her hand 
and held it a minute before she spoke again. 

“And I haven’t told you all the nice things 
that happened to me this morning. A Junior 
sent word to me by Kate Newton that she 
wanted to come and call on me, I reminded her 
so much of her little sister at home. J ust think 
of it; and a Junior! I feel ‘s’ nice and s’ 
proud.’ Kate says she is one of the finest girls 
in the class, too, and that I ought to feel 
honored.” 

“ That is nice. I am glad my little girl can 
make any one happy by reminding her of 
home. Perhaps she is a little homesick.” 

“ Kate says it made her so homesick the first 
time she saw me one morning in chapel that she 
went to her room and cried.” 

“ Poor girl !” said Mrs. Darcy, with quick 
sympathy ; “ I hope I shall see her when she 
calls.” 

“ You will, of course ; Kate is going to bring 
her this afternoon at four. And I shall bring 
them right up here. I want her to see what a 
cozy little home we have, and what a darling 
mother I have ;” and Lois kissed the hand she 
held. 


LITTLE SISTER 


51 


Four o’clock brought with it Kate Newton 
and Miss Baker, and Lois brought them up- 
stairs and was visibly pleased with the evident 
impression the pretty room and the charming 
mother made upon the august Junior. But 
Lois and her mother were no less charmed with 
Miss Baker. While Lois delightedly busied 
herself at her little tea table making a cup of 
chocolate for her guests, Mrs. Darcy had a 
chance to have a very nice little talk with Miss 
Baker, and found her so mature in her manner 
of thinking and expressing herself, and so 
strong in her convictions that she felt she would 
make a very valuable friend for Lois, if only 
the acquaintance so happily begun might ripen 
into friendship. 

They began discussing some very interesting 
questions after Lois’s chocolate and wafers had 
been duly complimented and disposed of. It 
was a dreary day outside, a damp, chilling east 
wind blowing, and a gloomy sky covered with 
heavy dark clouds. But that only made it all 
the more cheery inside, with the logs blazing 
and crackling merrily in the fireplace. To the 
girls accustomed to only the steam heaters or 
registers it seemed very delightful, and they 


52 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


were easily persuaded to lay aside their wraps 
and draw up cozily around the fire while the 
shadows deepened outside, and by the time a 
startled glance at the clock warned them that 
there was barely time to get home for supper, 
they had all come to feel like old friends. Kate 
was a frequent and a welcome visitor always, 
and now as Mrs. Darcy held Miss Baker’s hand 
at parting, she told her she hoped she would 
come very often, with Kate or without her, and 
make their rooms one of her college homes. 

“ Oh ! may I ?” with a quick pressure of Mrs. 
Darcy’s hand. “ I would like to so much. 
You don’t know how I envy Miss Darcy 
having her mother here with her. And I love 
her already, she is so like my little sister 
Helen.” 

Rehearsal was from six thirty to seven thirty. 
Lois came home from it greatly excited. 

“ It’s perfectly fine, mamma ; Miss Felton is 
the best leader you ever saw, and the girls sing 
splendidly, and we have the cutest songs ; and 
we are to give a concert very soon, just a little 
one in Music Hall for the benefit of the college 
settlement in New York. There is one girl 
who has a magnificent voice. She sings most 


LITTLE SISTER 


53 


of the solos. But what do you think, mamma ? 
Miss Felton walked almost home with me, 
although I told her I wasn’t one bit afraid ; but 
she said she was sure you would like it better ; 
I was so young to be out alone. How do you 
suppose the girls all know I am so young ? 
You don’t tell anybody, do you?” 

Mrs. Darcy laughed, for Lois had actually 
stopped to get breath and wait for a reply to her 
question. 

“ No, indeed, darling ; but you look young, of 
course, and it is no disgrace, my dear, and a 
fault that time will remedy only too soon.” 

“Well, I know what it is; it’s my hair and 
my dresses. Won’t you have my dresses made 
really long, mamma? And the very day I am 
seventeen I am going to put my hair up; 
may I?” 

“ If your heart is set on it, and you think 
it will make you any happier. But did you 
finish telling me what you began?” 

“ Oh ! no ! What do you think ? Miss Fel- 
ton said I would probably have to be singing 
solos soon ; she was not sure but that I had the 
best voice in the Glee Club. Do you suppose I 
could ever sing a solo, mamma ?” 


54 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


She asked the question shyly, almost trem- 
blingly, but she was very happy, her mother 
could see from her shining eyes, as she sat down 
to the piano and began to play and sing softly : 

“ Fair Gale, our praise to thee we render, 

O dearest college halls !” 

Two days after, Lois came home with a note. 
It was the first time she had ever found one for 
her on the bulletin board, although she had 
looked with hope deferred every day, and envied 
the girls to whom the interesting looking little 
notes, folded in every conceivable shape, but 
always with both the name and the class, were 
addressed. This morning she had looked me- 
chanically, as usual, but without hope, and 
there, at last ! was a little triangular bit of paper 
addressed to “ Miss Lois Darcy, ’9 — .” And 
when she opened it she was still more delighted. 
It was from Miss Baker, asking her if she might 
accompany her to vespers on Sunday, and it 
began, “ Little Sister.” 


CHAPTER Y 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 

It came at last — the day of the Sophomore 
Reception ! It had almost seemed to the First 
and Second Class girls that it never would come, 
they had talked about it so much, and there had 
been so many rumors as to the date. But one 
morning in chapel it was announced for the 
tenth of October, and Mountain Day to follow 
it on the eleventh — ra beneficent arrangement 
by which the girls worn out by the excitement 
and fatigue of the reception might have the 
next day for nature’s healing and no lessons to 
worry about. 

The dressmakers were all crowded with orders 
for new gowns for the great occasion, and the 
florists and livery stables were taxed to the 
utmost to supply the demand for flowers and 
carriages. 

Lois had no new gown, but she had her 
graduating dress, “ as good as new,” she said, 
and nothing could have been more suitable to 

55 


56 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


her girlish beauty than the simple white or- 
gandie and lace. Kate Newton, an old St. 
Mark’s friend and a Sophomore, wanted to 
take Lois to the reception, but she had made an 
engagement with some one else before she knew 
Lois would be in college. She did the next 
best thing ; she brought her bosom friend, a tall 
brunette, Lois’s very counterpart in style, to call 
one day and make an engagement for the recep- 
tion. She met her several times afterward at 
little dances, and had begun to feel a very 
peculiar interest in the young lady who was to 
take the place of a young man as her escort. 
And when on the day itself a box of exquisite 
La France roses arrived with Miss Hilton’s card 
and a note saying the carriage would call for 
her at seven, Lois said she actually had a weird 
feeling as if it were a young man in disguise 
who was paying her all these attentions. 

Mrs. Darcy went again to the gymnasium 
gallery as spectator of the gay scene, and if she 
had thought the first scene a pretty one, this 
was enchanting. After all, dress does make a 
difference. The girls in their evening toilets of 
every exquisite fabric and delicate shade, varied 
by an occasional rich silk of deeper hue, their 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 


57 


white necks gleaming, and sometimes, too, a 
rounded arm when the long glove had been 
drawn off, made a shifting, kaleidoscopic picture 
hard to imagine as they moved in the rhythmic 
mazes of the dance. 

The hall itself was beautifully decorated in 
the class colors, the gold of the Sophomores 
represented by sheaves of wheat intertwined 
with the crimson poppies of the Freshmen. 
The galleries were filled with the Faculty and 
the friends of the dancers, all in full dress, to 
grace the occasion. Only in the galleries were 
there any black coats, and there was quite a 
sprinkling of them there, many of them Hough- 
ton men who looked on at the dance beneath with 
longing eyes, like so many masculine peris shut 
out from Paradise, and nevertheless permitted to 
gaze upon its unattainable glories, rewarded, 
however, quite frequently for their patient wait- 
ing by heavenly visitants from below coming up 
to talk out a dance with them. 

But the spectators in the gallery thought the 
prettiest effect in the whole scene was when 
something would occur at the “ grind table,” 
and the whole rainbow-tinted assembly would 
start on a run and mass like some huge bouquet 


58 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


about the grinds, to gradually dissolve away as 
the excitement spent itself. As a Houghton 
College man standing near Mrs. Darcy said, 
“ It’s simply gorgeous. Beats all the spectac- 
ular shows I ever saw on the stage. Do you 
suppose they know how awfully pretty they 
look ?” 

Beautiful as it all was to Mrs. Darcy, her 
eyes still followed greedily one little white-robed 
figure with waving golden curls. If she lost 
sight of her for a few moments, attracted by 
some stately beauty in gorgeous dress, she 
strained her eyes until she found her again, and 
was not perfectly happy until she recognized 
the graceful swing of that dainty little figure. 

She had taken furtive notice of two dignified, 
well-dressed women standing near her, whose 
comments on the girls, calling many of them 
by name, showed a familiar acquaintance with 
them. Suddenly one of them said : 

“ Who is that beautiful girl in white, with 
golden curls and a pink rose in her hair ?” 

Mrs. Da’rcy could have answered right away, 
but it was some time before the other could dis- 
tinguish who was indicated by the description. 
But when she did, her quick exclamation set 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 


59 


every pulse to throbbing in the quiet stranger 
who stood near her. And did not Mrs. Darcy 
disdain to play the eavesdropper ? No, indeed ; 
with head discreetly turned away, she strained 
her ears to lose no word of the reply, boldly 
regardless of the awful sentence pronounced 
upon all listeners. 

“ Oh ! I see whom you mean. Why, that's 
Miss Darcy, one of the prettiest and brightest 
girls in the first class. No, I don't have her 
myself, but I have heard her talked over by 
those who do. They say she is unusually bright, 
and one of the very youngest in her class, too. 
Fine in her literary work, in Greek, Latin, and 
mathematics, they think she is bound to make 
an unusual record if she keeps on as she has 
begun." 

And then the awful doom she had so reck- 
lessly courted fell upon Mrs. Darcy. The same 
speaker went on : “ There is just one thing 

that is probably going to prevent her taking the 
standing in her college life that she otherwise 
would. Her mother is here with her." 

“ How will that hinder her ?" 

“ Oh ! in a thousand ways. She will never be 
able to act independently. She will remain 


60 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


just where she is now, a sweet, bright, clever 
little girl, but there will he no developing of 
the woman with an ability for leadership, such 
as there probably would be under other circum- 
stances/’ 

“ But she is still very young. You wouldn’t 
want her to grow old before her time, and a child 
of that age ought to have her mother with her.” 

“ I know it. I am not finding fault with the 
arrangement ; if it could ever work well, it 
seems as if it ought in this case. But strange 
as it may seem, it has been our almost universal 
experience that mothers prove a hindrance 
instead of a help.” 

“ Do the day scholars, then, never rank with 
the out-of-town girls ?” 

“ Oh, yes, sometimes ; but the environments 
do not seem to be quite the same. A girl’s 
mother who is here to be with her daughter, 
has no home cares and no society duties to take 
up her time; nothing but her child. And, 
unless she is a remarkably wise woman, she will 
unconsciously make so many demands upon 
her child’s time and attention that it eventu- 
ally comes to be a great drain upon the girl’s 
strength, mentally and physically.” 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 


61 


“ Well, why don’t you make a law prohibit- 
ing the mothers’ coming, or at least discourag- 
ing it ?” 

“We don’t own Norwood. You know we 
can’t prevent any one who pleases from taking 
up a residence here. We can and do forbid 
their residence in the college houses, and if our 
advice is ever asked, which it very seldom is, we 
discourage their coming with their daughters, 
and tell them very frankly that we find the 
young women do better when compelled to be 
entirely self-reliant.” 

“ Then Miss Darcy, I suppose, is not on the 
campus.” 

“ No, and the pity of it is, she never can be, 
if her mother holds to her intention of remain- 
ing here the whole four years.” 

“ That is a pity, isn’t it ? Girls who never go 
oh the campus lose so much of college life.” 

“ They lose the very cream and essence of it. 
If her mother only knew what she was depriv- 
ing her daughter of, all the forming and educa- 
ting influence of constant companionship with 
bright, young minds, the warm, life-long friend- 
ships formed in no other way ; the invaluable 
habits of independent thought and action ; with- 


62 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


out taking into consideration the wholesome fun 
and good-fellowship that are like strong, brac- 
ing breezes to blow away the malaria and miasma 
of a too self-conscious life ; I say if she is the 
right kind of a mother, and only knew all her 
daughter is going to lose these four years, when 
she ought to be out of leading strings and 
learning to walk alone, she would find a place 
for her daughter on the campus and pack up 
and go home, contenting herself with the vaca- 
tions and perhaps an occasional visit.” 

Her companion looked at her with a little 
smile of amusement. 

“ My dear Miss Graham, you are really 
growing eloquent. Aren’t you a little afraid 
some one may overhear you ?” 

“ Dear me, was I talking so loud ? I am 
afraid I was getting a little excited. It always 
seems to rub me the wrong way to see such a 
promising girl hampered and repressed in her 
development.” 

Miss Graham lowered her voice and glanced 
uneasily about her as she spoke, to see if she 
had been overheard ; but her nearest neighbor 
was a little woman with averted head, evidently 
entirely absorbed in watching the dancers, and 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 63 

she looked relieved. She could not see the 
face that, as she began to speak, beamed with 
exultant pride, change to indignant surprise, 
which swiftly in turn faded into a gray pallor 
of mute anguish. 

Could she be doing her darling child an 
injury? Was it possible she would be happier 
and freer without her ? What was this “ cam- 
pus life” that could outweigh all the sweet 
influences of home and mother? No, she 
would never believe it. She was no selfish 
mother to make undue demands upon her 
daughter’s time and attention. She was only 
too anxious that she should have all the young 
companionship possible. . What did those cold- 
hearted women know about it? They were 
not mothers; that was certain. Their plan 
might work well for turning out machine-made 
women, all of a pattern ; but her plan was 
God’s plan. He knew what was best for girls 
when He gave them mothers to love them and 
fondle them and watch anxiously over them. 
If a life of independence was the best thing for 
girls of sixteen, why didn’t God kill off all 
the mothers of sixteen-year-old girls ? “ Life- 

long friendships!” Were they so much better 


64 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


than mother’s love that they should supplant 
it? 

Yet all the time she was indignantly and 
desperately repudiating their views, she knew 
she had received a hurt that left her pale and 
weak. She would not think about it any more ; 
she was too dazed to think ; she could only feel. 
Everything had grown dim about her. The 
dancers were far off and hazy. She could not 
distinguish Lois in the many-tinted blur. She 
would hunt up Mrs. Waters and tell her she 
was tired and would go home, though she must 
not come home with her. She could take a car 
and ride to the door. 

She succeeded in accomplishing her purpose 
in spite of Mrs. Waters insisting that she would 
go with her. She felt that even for that short 
ride any society would be intolerable. 

She had time to rouse her dazed faculties 
and get herself into a presentable frame of mind 
before Lois’s carriage rolled up to the door, and 
Lois herself, flushed and beautiful if a little dis- 
hevelled, appeared in the sitting-room, bearing 
in her arms a great sheaf of wheat and scarlet 
poppies, as trophies and mementos of the grand 
occasion. 



LOIS APPEARED, FLUSHED AND BEAUTIFUL 
(See page 64) 



THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 65 

It was a cold windy night, and her mother 
had made her wear a long fur cloak to protect 
her, she was so thinly clad. Her hair, bronze, 
but with many a gleam of gold, lay in curly, 
wind-blown masses on the dark fur. The 
warmth of the gymnasium and the exercise of 
dancing had made little soft ringlets all about 
her face, and the roses in her cheeks exactly 
matched the roses in her hair, while her eyes, 
her great beauty, large, dark, soft, and bright, 
were dancing with delight. 

Lois was too full of the pleasure of the even- 
ing, and too eager to give her mother a full 
recital of it all to notice any unusual pallor in 
her mother’s face or restraint in her manner. 
Yet in spite of her efforts to shake it off, to 
ignore and forget all she had heard, Mrs. Darcy 
could not resist a fateful feeling that a strange 
and chilling barrier had arisen between her and 
her darling, to destroy the perfect unreserve of 
their loving familiarity. 

She had said to herself over and over while 
waiting for Lois’s return, “ I will not let myself 
be influenced by what those women said. They 
cannot know what is best for Lois, my baby, 
my darling, my little one, as well as I, her 
5 


66 


HER COLLEGE HAYS 


mother.” And then in spite of herself her im- 
agination had run away with her into a vista of 
dreary years, without Lois, until before she 
knew it, there were bitter tears falling on her 
tightly clasped hands. Then she had roused 
herself, determined to put away the ugly night- 
mare once and forever, and calling herself fool- 
ish, weak, and silly to be so disturbed by idle 
words. 

Then Lois had come, and now she was enter- 
ing into her account of the evening with fever- 
ish eagerness, while her eyes took in hungrily 
every detail of her girlish beauty. “ My Lois, 
my beautiful darling,” she was silently saying 
all the time, “ no power on earth shall separate 
us.” 

“ I met so many nice girls, mamma,” Lois 
was saying. “ And what do you think ? Miss 
Felton and Miss Baker both came and begged 
me for a dance. I could not give them any ; 
our programs were all made out for us before- 
hand by our escorts, and we had nothing to say 
about it. But Miss Felton persuaded one of 
my partners to give up one-half of a dance to 
her, and I felt honored, I assure you, a Senior 
and leader of the Glee Club. I was so sorry I 


THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION 67 

couldn’t dance with Miss Baker ; I wanted to 
so much, and she really looked disappointed.” 

Lois’s tongue lagged after a while ; the excite- 
ment was beginning to wear off and the fatigue 
to set in, but she roused herself to say : 

“ Would you like to hear a pretty speech 
Miss Felton made me?” 

“ Of course, dearie ; I want to hear all the 
pretty speeches your admirers make.” 

“Well then, you mustn’t think me vain. 
She said she thought I w T as the nicest Fresh- 
man in the hall, and she wished so much I was 
living in the Hamilton House, and asked me if 
I didn’t think I would come on the campus 
some time. I told her I would like to very 
well, but they wouldn’t let you come too, and 
you were worth more than ten thousand 
campuses.” 

Lois leaned her tired head on her mother’s 
shoulder as she spoke, and her eyes were lan- 
guidly fixed on the flickering fire, so she did 
not see the quick, painful quiver on her mother’s 
lip and chin, though she did wonder drowsily 
why it was so long before she felt her soft kiss 
and heard the whispered, “ My Mignonette.” 


CHAPTER VI 


MOUNTAIN DAY 

The day of the reception had been stormy, 
only clearing off in the evening in time for the 
girls to get in and out of their carriages without 
getting wet — a kindness on the part of the clerk 
of the weather thoroughly appreciated by the 
Sophomores and Freshmen. The President had 
said at chapel in the morning while winds were 
howling and rain pouring, “ We have never had 
in the history of Gale a rainy Mountain Day, 
and I hope to-morrow will not spoil the record.” 

And it did not. Mountain Day dawned clear 
and sparkling, every vestige of yesterday’s 
clouds clean swept from the sky, and heaven 
and earth smiling in radiant sympathy with the 
eight hundred happy girls on their first holiday 
of the year. 

And all Mrs. Darcy’s painful doubts and mis- 
givings had vanished with the clouds. Her 
mental atmosphere this morning was as serene 
and joyous as the sparkling blue and gold of 
68 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


69 


the October clay. She wondered how she could 
have been so weak the night before. There 
could be no possible question of the happiest and 
best thing for Lois. 

Mrs. Darcy was sitting at her window waiting 
for Lois to wake up. She was letting her sleep 
as long as she would to recover from the fatigue 
of the night before, and also because it was the 
first chance Lois had had since college opened 
to indulge in the luxury of a morning nap. 

On Lois’s little tea table drawn up in front of 
the fire were a plate of bread and butter with a 
toasting rack beside it, and the preparations for 
a cup of cocoa all in readiness for Lois’s simple 
breakfast when she should be ready for it. A 
book lay in Mrs. Darcy’s lap, but she was not 
reading much ; the view from her window irre- 
sistibly drew her eyes outside. Just across the 
street were park-like grounds, and the great 
maples scattered over them were in the full 
glory of their crimson and gold. Beyond to the 
left she could catch glimpses of wooded heights 
all aflush with color, and to the right the bold 
outlines of Mt. Hoaryhead and Mt. Ben stood 
out with startling distinctness in the clear at- 
mosphere. Everywhere there was a wealth of 


70 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


color easier to associate with the glowing tropics 
than with cold and gray New England. Her 
western eyes, used to the dull brown and tawny 
reds of the autumn foliage at home, could never 
tire of the splendor of ruby and topaz in the 
glowing October of the north. And as she sat 
feasting her eyes, she pictured herself sitting at 
the same window with the trees all bare and 
brown, and then later on bending beneath their 
burden of snow and ice, and then, with a little 
anticipatory start of delight, she thought how 
beautiful it would be to see them budding out 
into the tender spring foliage — to watch them 
unfolding from day to day and to know that 
each day was bringing her and Lois nearer to 
their return to dear St. Mark’s. The vision set 
her heart to beating in happy measure, and 
there was no gloomy shadow of a coming event 
to whisper that when spring came she would 
not be watching its unfolding from that sunny 
window with Lois within reach of her voice. 

She glanced at the clock. Lois was sleeping 
late ; perhaps after all she had better call her ; 
there would be some studying to do before they 
set out on their afternoon expedition to the 
mountains. As she stepped into the next room 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


71 


to wake lier, she stopped a moment and gazed 
fondly at the pretty picture. Mrs. Darc}^ 
always said Lois posed in her sleep, and she 
was not belying her mother’s statement. Her 
head turned slightly to one side, her bright hair 
flowing over the pillow, and one hand resting 
gracefully on her bosom, she did look like a care- 
fully arranged model of graceful sleep. And 
when added to the pretty pose were the flushed 
cheeks with the dark lashes resting on them, the 
half smile hovering about the sweet curves of the 
mouth and chin, she made a picture her mother 
hesitated to spoil. But it was just such a picture, 
with endless variations in the poses, that she had 
to spoil every morning, so she bent over her and 
spoke softly, “ Wake up, Lois, it’s ten o’clock.” 

Lois opened her eyes quickly and almost be- 
fore her eyes were open had thrown her arm 
around her mother’s neck and pulled her head 
down for her morning kiss, a thoroughly audible 
one on Lois’s part. 

“ Why did you let your lazy child sleep so 
long? Isabel is coming over to study her 
Greek with me at eleven o’clock, and I was 
going to have such a good long practice first 
for Frau Heidelberg.” 


72 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois seldom tried to remember the trouble- 
some German name, but used any appellation 
that first suggested itself, provided it was long 
and had a Teutonic sound. 

Half an hour later she threw herself into a 
low chair beside her little tea table with a sigh 
of perfect enjoyment. Her brass samovar was 
steaming away with hot milk for her cocoa, and 
on the rack before the fire the bread was brown- 
ing to a turn. 

“ This is luxury, isn’t it, mamma? To think 
this is the very first time I have had a chance 
to wear my new breakfast gown.” And Lois 
surveyed complacently its soft crimson folds 
and pretty lace trimmings. The samovar gave 
a vigorous little puff, and Lois lifted the lid and 
peeped in. 

“ Come, mamma, the milk is boiling ; let us 
have our breakfast. I’ll make the cocoa and 
you watch the toast. Oh! don’t say you have 
had yours; it would be such fun to have it 
together and play we were somewhere in Europe 
in lodgings, you know, taking a Continental 
breakfast.” 

And she would take no refusal until Mrs. 
Darcy was seated opposite her pretending at least 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


73 


to enjoy the crisp brown toast and steaming 
cocoa. Lois ate so much toast and drank so 
many tiny cups of cocoa, and had so much to 
talk about between memories of the night before 
and anticipation of the coming frolic in the 
afternoon that they were still lingering at their 
little table when Isabel came over for her Greek. 
Lois had just said : “ Now I feel exactly as if I 
were in one of Dickens’s stories with my un- 
limited cups of tea (cocoa, far more proper) 
and my rounds of buttered toast. I always did 
want to go to one of those snug little tea parties 
of his, only he never has anybody but old 
women at them. Some day I shall write a book 
and put you and me in it and our little parties, 
and make everybody’s mouth water that reads 
them.” 

And then came Isabel’s knock, and she was 
easily persuaded to have a cup of cocoa and a 
piece of hot toast. And then the girls would 
not let Mrs. Darcy touch the breakfast things, 
but, protected by motherly aprons, Lois got out 
the bright little dish pan, the little oil stove 
supplied them with plenty of hot water, Isabel 
was provided with a clean tea towel, and it was 
only a few minutes’ frolic to “ do the dishes.” 


74 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“ You do have such good times together, you 
and your mother !” said Isa'bel as they sat 
down to study. “It makes me just green with 
envy.” 

“ Of course, we do, hut- she doesn’t know about 
half our good times, does she, mamma ?” with a 
bright, loving glance toward her mother, who 
was seated again by her favorite window, but 
this time with her sewing. A smile and a 
glance was all her answer, but it was all she 
wanted. 

“ All aboard for Mt. Hoaryhead !” A buck- 
board piled high with happy girls stood before 
Mrs. Waters’s door ready for the start, but de- 
layed that the girls might watch a very inter- 
esting preliminary performance. No buckboard 
could be found quite large enough to hold all 
the girls and their chaperone, and so two of 
them had decided to go on horseback as out- 
riders, and Lois was one of the two. In her 
western home riding was her delight. She had 
been brought up in the saddle, but this was the 
first time she had ridden in Norwood. The 
other rider was the Boston Freshman, Miss Dodd- 
ridge, a stately girl of somewhat matronly pro- 
portions, dignified and deliberate in her man- 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


75 


ners, as became a (laughter of “The Hub. ” 
She was older than the other girls, having made 
a late decision to prepare for college, and some- 
times found it a little difficult to enter into their 
girlish sports with perfect spontaneity, while 
greatly desiring to do so. She had never been 
on a horse in her life, but it was one of the 
things she had always secretly longed to try, 
and she seized this opportunity. 

Mr. Day had in his stables a small, under- 
sized horse of the pony build, thoroughly relia- 
ble, and with a gait like a rocking-horse. He 
had recommended it to Miss Doddridge as the 
very thing for a novice, and though she rather 
demurred at the diminutive size of the steed in 
comparison with her own stately proportions, 
Mr. Day assured her he was perfectly able to 
carry her, and she was finally convinced that 
for a first attempt it was better to prefer safety 
and comfort to appearances. 

The girls had put their inventive heads 
together to remedy her second difficulty, — the 
lack of a riding habit, and while the result did 
not quite satisfy Miss Doddridge's aesthetic 
sense, it was not very bad. An old black skirt of 
Mrs. Waters had been ingeniously lengthened 


76 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


by a piece set on around the bottom and the 
seam disguised by rows of stitching above 
and below. It was weighted with shot, and a 
blazer, shirt waist, and Tam O’Slianter of her 
own completed her very respectable costume. 
Lois’s natty little riding habit of dark blue 
fitted her slender figure perfectly, and gloves 
and hat and whip were all in regulation style 
and perfect taste. Miss Doddridge felt the 
contrast, and as one of her chief reasons for 
wishing to learn to ride was the admiration she 
always felt for a graceful equestrienne, she was 
half inclined to regret that she had made the 
attempt without being properly equipped. How- 
ever, she brought her Bostonian philosophy to 
bear, reflecting that this was only a trial ride, 
she might never care for another, but if it did 
prove a success, she would supply herself with 
an equestrian outfit, and her next appearance 
should be eminently satisfactory. 

With her foot in the groom’s hand, Lois 
sprang lightly to her seat, but rather advised 
that Miss Doddridge should try the more sober 
method of mounting from a kitchen chair, as 
this was her first attempt. Miss Doddridge 
thought otherwise, however ; she was deter- 


MOUNTAIN DAY 77 

mined to begin right, and learn all she could of 
the proper methods. 

The groom was a slender, little fellow, but he 
told Miss Doddridge he would count one, two, 
three, and then she must spring, and he thought 
he would have no difficulty in putting her in 
the saddle. With her substantial foot resting 
solidly in the groom’s hand, she twice made the 
effort, but twice failed, because her spring and 
the groom’s toss did not seem to connect. The 
third time she bent all her intellect and energy 
to the effort with appalling results. She made one 
tremendous spring, rose high in the air, cleared 
the pony’s back, and alighted in some inexpli- 
cable manner on her feet on the other side, 
where she stood facing “ Lone Star ” and gazing 
in calm bewilderment at the havoc around her. 
The recoil of her sudden spring had been equal 
to the momentum of her rise. The poor groom 
was hurled forcibly backward, fortunately on 
to the soft turf, where he lay too dazed for 
the moment to make any effort to get up. Lois’s 
horse, a spirited creature, seeing this huge pro- 
jectile shoot up in the air and alight under his 
very nose, was dancing frantically round on his 
hind feet, pawing the air, with fire in his eye, 


78 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


to Mrs. Darcy’s infinite terror. The horses 
attached to the buckboard were almost as badly 
frightened, springing from side to side, backing 
and pulling ; the driver had hard work to hold 
them. The only creature who seemed abso- 
lutely unaffected by the catastrophe was “ Lone 
Star,” who stood in the same sleepy and de- 
jected attitude, head down, and eyes half closed, 
with an air of utmost indifference to what he 
evidently considered was none of his business. 

Not a sound had been uttered by any one for 
the first few minutes. All had been either 
dazed by the suddenness of the event, or were 
too intensely conscious of their own and Lois’s 
peril. But when the groom, recovering from 
his first stunned sensation, sprang to the head 
of Lois’s horse and together they calmed him 
down, and the driver of the buckboard had suc- 
ceeded in quieting his horses also, the full ab- 
surdity of the scene burst upon them, and no 
kindly desire to spare Miss Doddridge’s feelings 
could restrain the uncontrollable peals of laugh- 
ter of the girls. It was irresistible. Mrs. 
Waters, watching the start from the piazza and 
standing aghast at the unexpected turn of affairs, 
the groom, and the driver, and Miss Doddridge 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


79 


herself were utterly convulsed. Lois nearly fell 
from her horse in her paroxysms of laughter, 
and one of the girls did roll off the buckboard. 
When they were quieted down at last and Mrs. 
Waters had run to the kitchen for a chair, Miss 
Doddridge calmly announced that she thought 
if the groom had no objections she would try it 
again ; she believed she knew exactly how to do 
it now, just when to spring and how much force 
to use. Everybody tried to dissuade her, but 
she was firm. The groom looked rueful, but 
said he was willing to risk it if she was, and 
seeing she was resolved, Mrs. Darcy only in- 
sisted she should wait until Lois and the buck- 
board had started on. So the cavalcade moved 
down the street, where they took up their posi- 
tion at a safe distance to await the result, which, 
to the surprise of every one, proved a perfect 
success. But the sight of the little pony jog- 
ging comfortably along, almost concealed by 
Miss Doddridge’s ample proportions and volum- 
inous skirts, was too much for the girls. They 
went into convulsions again, with difficulty re- 
pressed by the time Miss Doddridge, calm and 
self-satisfied, had joined them. 

An expedition so auspiciously begun could not 


80 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


lack for hilarity. The most trivial thing started 
them afresh, and Mrs. Darcy found she had her 
hands full to preserve proper decorum until they 
were well out of the city streets, when she gave 
up trying and let them give free and noisy vent 
to their merriment. 

Lois and Miss Doddridge at first fell far be- 
hind the others, for Miss Doddridge naturally 
felt afraid to venture off a walk or a jog trot, 
and Lois would not desert her. But, encouraged 
by Lois, and finding her horse so safe and so 
comfortable, she was soon taking short canters, 
and before long they both went dashing by the 
buckboard on a full gallop, lustily cheered by 
the girls. 

It was all too short a ride for Lois, who, ex- 
hilarated by finding herself once more on a 
spirited horse, made little detours into side roads 
or dashed ahead and back again to add to its 
length. Crossing Hocanock Ferry threatened 
to be another exciting affair. The ferryman 
was on the other side of the river, and a horn 
covered with inscriptions, placed there by pre- 
ceding generations of excursionists, was stuck 
on a little stick by the roadside, and indicated 
the method of summoning him. Isabel seized 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


81 


it and blew a resounding blast, and then they 
had to patiently await his slow progress toward 
them. Most of the horses, like sensible crea- 
tures, walked steadily across the gangway and 
on to the boat ; but Lois’s horse was evidently 
a stranger to the Camelot Liver and its primi- 
tive modes of crossing, for, the instant he saw 
the huge scow approaching the shore and 
divined that he was expected to entrust himself 
to such a suspicious looking object, he began 
to remonstrate in a very forcible manner. Lois 
rather enjoyed the effort of controlling her cur- 
vetting and prancing steed, and would have 
liked to give an exhibition of her horsemanship 
by compelling him to cross on to the boat, but 
out of regard for her mother’s terror she dis- 
mounted and let the driver lead him on while 
she stood at the head of his horses. And it 
was quite as well that she did, for in the middle 
of the river, the deep, swiftly-flowing water all 
about him, a sudden terror seized him, and it 
taxed the driver’s strength and skill to prevent 
his plunging overboard, while Lois found she 
had something to do to keep the other horses 
quiet, excited by his plunging. “ Lone Star ” 
as usual, remained in statuesque indifference 
6 


82 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


with Miss Doddridge on his hack. She had 
decided not to dismount, having begun to feel 
implicit confidence in “ Lone Star’s ” steadiness, 
and not having her plucky little groom as as- 
sistant in mounting, she did not feel like under- 
taking to train the driver for that difficult 
position, even if he had been courageous enough 
to offer himself as candidate. 

But the crossing was made without any acci- 
dent, and soon the little cavalcade began the 
ascent of Mt. Hoaryhead, a winding road 
through the woods, until half-way up they 
were obliged to leave their horses and betake 
themselves to the little car drawn up by cable. 
The almost perpendicular ascent frightened 
some of the party. They declared they never 
could trust themselves to that little box, and 
preferred to mount the five hundred and twenty- 
two steps leading to the summit, or climb the 
steep foot-path. The glorious view that burst 
upon them from the piazza of the Prospect 
House was a revelation to some of the girls from 
the prairies of the West, to whom mountains and 
mountain views were all a strange, new experi- 
ence. The whole Camelot valley lay spread out 
before them. The wide river winding through 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


83 


rich meadows, with populous towns dotting its 
banks at intervals of only a few miles, villages 
nestling in the valleys or clinging to the hill- 
sides, so embowered in, the flaming splendor of 
crimson and gold foliage that often only the 
spires of the churches or the smoking chimneys 
of the factories indicated their location, and in 
the west the broken masses and purple ridges 
of the Berkshire Hills. Through the telescope 
they could see the girls moving about the campus 
of Gale, and read the time on the clock of 
the old college hall at Houghton. But no view, 
however beautiful, will keep girls, bubbling over 
with life and fun, long enthralled. Some of 
them came up presently with an air of great 
disgust to announce that there were a lot of 
Houghton men in the parlors, and threw the 
whole party into a little flurry of excitement. 
There were loud exclamations of “ too bad ! we 
wanted to dance.” “ What will we do now, 
Mrs. Darcy ? We can't stay out on the piazza 
all the time.” Mrs. Darcy herself was in some- 
what of a quandary, for she had visions of men 
thronging the rooms to the exclusion or dis- 
comfort of their party ; but the difficulty was 
solved by three of the Houghton men appearing 


84 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and proving to be old friends of Miss Arden and 
Miss Doddridge.* They were introduced to Mrs. 
Darcy, and immediately preferred a request 
that their party might be permitted to join hers. 
There were only six of them. Isabel and Miss 
Doddridge could vouch for three of them as 
being “ all right,” and they were ready to vouch 
for the other three. So after all they proved 
“ a blessing in disguise,” as Isabel said, and the 
girls did not find the dancing any the less en- 
joyable for partners in black coats, although 
they had often loyally vowed that their college 
dances without men were the most delightful 
dances conceivable. 

And when they had had enough of dancing 
they sang Gale songs and Houghton songs until 
the Houghton men began to wonder why the 
Gale girls made no movement toward starting if 
they had any idea of getting home in time for 
supper. When it was inadvertently disclosed 
that the Gale girls had arranged to stay to 
supper and go home by moonlight, the men 
managed to consult together in that quiet and 
unobtrusive way men have, and changed their 
own plans accordingly. 

Some one suggested that if they did not look 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


85 


out they would miss the sunset, and there was a 
general rush for the piazza just in time to see 
old Sol disappear in royal splendor behind the 
Berkshire Hills. But as he departed he flung 
behind him blazing torches that kindled the 
light inflammable mists where they fell, and sent 
the flames leaping and quivering from one 
cloud mass to another until the whole heavens 
from the most distant rim of the Berkshires on 
the west to the far outlying plains of Leicester 
on the east were one grand conflagration. It 
was such a sunset as some of them had never 
seen, and even the light-hearted college youths 
and maidens were awed into silence by its un- 
earthly beauty. As the splendor died out, 
leaving the earth cold and gray, and fast disap- 
pearing beneath them, they recovered speech. 

On that mountain height there had come 
with the setting of the sun a sudden, penetrating 
chill, and as Lois said, 

“While no longer dumb, 

We’re almost numb.” 

“ Let’s have a run just for fun,” added Isabel 
quickly, and Mr. Beacher, of Houghton, added, 
“ To warm us up while we wait for sup.” Their 
rash flights into verse met with the derision they 


86 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


deserved, in the midst of which Lois began 
again, 

“Come, let’s start and stop your laughter, 

Gale girls first and Houghton after.” 

And suiting the action to the word, she darted 
off down the long piazza. Isabel followed a 
close second, calling back, 

“ Follow the leaders who go before ye, 

Run for dear old Gale and glory.” 

And Mr. Beacher, not to be outdone, shouted in 
stentorian tones, 

“ Come Houghton men, who never take a dare, 

And prove your prowess to these maidens fair.” 

Then such a race around the four sides of the 
big hotel — the girls off like a flock of birds and 
the men just waiting to give them a good start, 
and following in a business-like manner that 
showed their athletic training. But they had 
given the girls such a big handicap that some 
of them came in ahead, Isabel first and Lois 
just behind her. 

Mrs. Darcy was inclined to be a little shocked 
at such hoydenish behavior, but it was all 
done so quickly, with absolutely no rudeness on 
the part of the men, which Mrs. Darcy feared, 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


87 


nothing but merry shouts of laughter, applause 
for the winners and derision for the “ booby,” 
Mr. Hamilton, the trained athlete of the party, 
who, while apparently*straining every nerve, had 
managed to keep just behind Miss Doddridge, 
whose stately proportions were not specially 
adapted to fleetness of foot. And this evidence 
of a good heart was not lost on Mrs. Darcy. 

They all came in warm and glowing, to find 
a great fire of logs blazing in the big hall, and 
supper hot and tempting awaiting them in. the 
dining-room. 

What bright eyes and magnificent color 
gathered around the supper table, and what 
dishevelled locks too. To some of them like 
Lois it was not unbecoming, the wind having 
'set a fringe of tiny golden curls free that made 
a bewitching setting for the dark, glowing eyes 
and brilliant cheeks. But some of them whose 
straight locks, defying the restraining side- 
combs, hung rather elfishly about their bright 
faces, it was not particularly becoming. They 
did not much care ; they had not come to look 
pretty, but to have a good time, and they were 
having it. And as Isabel, who was always be- 
moaning her hopelessly straight hair, said, 


88 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


44 If the Houghton men don’t admire us, why 
4 Nobody axed them, sir, she sayde.’ ” 

But one of them evidently did admire Isabel. 
Mr. Beacher managed to secure a seat beside 
her at table, and while not at all neglecting Miss 
Doddridge on his other side, managed also to 
betray to the quick perceptions of the girls his 
admiration of Isabel’s frank, jolly ways and fre- 
quent sallies of girlish wit. 

Lois had found an admirer, too, in Mr. 
Hamilton, whose fair hair, blue eyes, and clear 
color gave him somewhat the appearance of an 
Englishman, and whose magnificent physique 
had won for him at Houghton the title of 44 The 
Giant.” He was a nice, wholesome, well-man- 
nered fellow, but standing somewhat in awe of 
women. He was greatly taken with Lois’s 
glowing beauty, and had overcome his fear suf- 
ficiently to slip into a seat beside her at supper. 

But Lois was not much used to men. She 
was too young to have had experience with any 
but her few boy friends at home, and she did 
not feel perfectly at her ease beside this Hough- 
ton giant, whom, nevertheless, she rather ad- 
mired ; she would much rather have been at the 
other end of the table where two or three girls 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


89 


were seated with no restraining man near, and 
having such a good time. She did her best, 
nevertheless, to be entertaining in an easy 
young-lady tied fashion, and was convinced she 
succeeded in being only priggish, stiff, and un- 
natural. She was really relieved when supper 
was over, and they adjourned to the big hall, 
and Mrs. Darcy proposed that they turn down 
the lights and tell stories by the firelight that 
filled the whole room with its ruddy glow. It 
was a happy suggestion. A cozy circle was 
quickly formed, and Mr. Beacher set the ball 
rolling by an amusing tale of college life. There 
were several good raconteurs among the men, 
and, what is much more rare, one or two among 
the girls. Isabel had a thrilling ghost story ; 
she doted on ghost stories, and had one ready 
for every occasion. This one, she averred, was 
well authenticated, and she told it so well that it 
produced a sufficiently creepy effect to satisfy 
even her morbid desire, and called forth loud 
encores from the whole party. She had volumes 
of them at her tongue’s end, but she absolutely 
refused to tell more than one other, which, how- 
ever, was even more thrilling than the first. 
Then some one called ou Lois for a story, and 


90 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


came near throwing her into a panic by insist- 
ing. There was one thing she knew she could 
not do, tell a story and not find she had entirely 
left out the point when she had finished it. 
And tell one before those Houghton men ? 
Never ! 

Mrs. Darcy had promised to have her party 
all safely home by nine o’clock, and the hour 
had come when, to redeem her promise, she 
must break up the charmed circle. It was too 
dark and late for any of them to think of taking 
either the path or the steps, and timid or not, 
they had to entrust themselves to the car and, 
four at a time, glide down the frightful descent. 
They found their buckboards and horses await- 
ing them at the foot, and “ The Giant ” had the 
extreme pleasure of assisting Lois to mount. 
And then, since Miss Doddridge hardly liked 
to display her new and hardly learned accom- 
plishment before so many spectators, he suggested 
lifting her to hers, which he did with perfect 
ease, to the great admiration of the girls, who 
were all true jin de siecle girls in their admira- 
tion of physical strength. 

The little cavalcade went merrily down the 
winding woodland road, the full “ hunter’s 


MOUNTAIN DAY 


91 


moon” illuminating the sombre shadows with 
frequent broad patches of light, until they 
emerged on the level road basking in the full 
effulgence of its silvery beams. 

Then Lois could not refrain from dashing 
ahead on “ Lex ” — the air was so exhilarating, 
the road so fine, and the moon so bright. And 
perhaps there was a little pardonable vanity 
mingled with her fondness for fast riding. She 
knew she was a good rider and looked well on a 
horse, and she was quite willing to show those 
Houghton men that there were some things she 
could do well, if perad venture they had con- 
sidered her young and school-girlish. So away 
she dashed and was soon a mere speck in the 
distance, and one big Houghton fellow began to 
have gloomy forebodings that they should see 
no more of her, as they would very soon now be 
at the junction where the road to Houghton 
separated from the road to Norwood. And he 
only wished he was on a good horse by her side, 
galloping along through the lovely moonlight, 
and mentally resolved that if he could find 
a horse in Houghton big enough and strong 
enough to bear him, he would take to riding and 
his route should always be Norwoodward, and 


92 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


sometime, perhaps, he should have the luck to 
meet Miss Darcy and try a dash with her. But 
she came back just as they had reached the 
parting of the ways and stopped to say good- 
night. The Houghton men sang a parting song, 
just slightly varying “Alma Mater O ” to suit 
the occasion. 

“ We’re gathered now, fair ladies, to join our parting song, 

To pluck from memory’s wreath the buds which there so 
sweetly throng, 

To gaze upon the Houghton Road down which we quickly go, 
But ere we part we’ll drink the health of Fair Gale College 0. 

“ Hither we came with hearts of joy, with sadness now we part, 
And sing for you a parting song which speaks a brother’s 
heart ; 

United firm in pleasing bonds which can no breaking know, 
For Houghton boys can ne’er forget their fair Gale College O. 

“ Then brush the tear-drop from your eye and happy let us be, 
For joy alone should fill the hearts of those as blest as we ; 
Our cheerful chorus ringing loud we’ll give before we go, 

The memory of Mountain Day and dear Gale College O.” 

It was quite a clever impromptu rendition 
for which Mr. Beadier was principally respon- 
sible, and was received with laughter and such 
hearty encores that they could not but respond. 
This time it was a trio — Mr. Beadier in a clear 
high tenor, Mr. Hamilton with a rich baritone, 
and Mr, Markham with a very good bass, sang 


MOUNTAIN BAY 


93 


“ The Soldier’s Farewell,” “How can I bear to 
leave thee?” The beautiful song was beauti- 
fully sung, and the girls knowing it was entirely 
impersonal, applauded it heartily. Then Mrs. 
Darcy said they really must go, and they went 
their separate ways, the Houghton men singing 
until out of hearing, “ Good-night, Ladies.” 

They crossed the broad river, coming down a 
shining flood in the moonlight between its low- 
lying islands and sentinel hills, in almost per- 
fect silence. It was too beautiful for any com- 
ment, and the hush of the scene seemed to have 
fallen even upon the spirited “ Rex,” who stood 
almost as quietly as the patient “ Lone Star.” 

On the very stroke of nine they drew up 
before Mrs. Waters’s door, a tired but a happy 
set of girls. As Isabel said to Lois when they 
were separating at the door : 

“ This has been a perfect day, and your 
mother does make the loveliest chaperone 
which made Lois very proud and very happy, 
as she repeated it to her mother when they were 
safe in their own little sitting-room. 


CHAPTER VII 


VESPERS 

Mrs. Darcy had been very happy all of 
Friday, and most of Saturday following Moun- 
tain Day. She felt quite sure that Lois was 
happier for being with her, and had no such 
longings for independence and campus life as 
she had been half afraid she might be haying. 

But it is the nature of such ill seeds as were 
sown in her heart on the evening of the Sopho- 
more reception to have a rank and sudden 
growth ; to wither away in the broad sunshine of 
love and happiness ; but never to die at the root, 
ready at the slightest encouragement to spring 
up full grown and deadly as the Upas tree. 

Some girls from the Horton House called on 
Lois Saturday afternoon, and were full of the 
fine times they were having on the campus — 
the jolly spreads, the dances on Wednesday and 
Saturday nights, their adventures in trying to 
evade the night watchman and the matron. A 
little remark of Lois’s after they were gone, that 
94 


VESPERS 


95 


would ordinarily have passed unnoticed, was 
construed by the newly developed sensitiveness 
of her mother to indicate a longing for the 
glories of the campus from which her mother’s 
presence debarred her. There was nothing of 
the kind in Lois’s heart. She did sometimes 
think it would be fine to be on the campus, but 
never, even in her remotest thoughts, would she 
have been willing to exchange the delight of 
having her mother with her for far greater en- 
ticements than had ever been presented. 

But the demon of suspicion once roused is 
hard to down. The next day was a perfect 
October Sunday. Norwood never showed to 
better advantage than with its winding, pictur- 
esque Elm Street brilliant in autumn livery and 
thronged with well-dressed people, a large pro- 
portion of them pretty young girls, all moving 
in one direction, toward the churches clustered 
on the brow of the hill, where Main Street 
meets Elm. 

Lois and her mother stopped at the pretty 
gray-stone Episcopal Church, one of the many 
handsome gifts to Norwood by non-residents. 
They were a little late, and the sweet young 
voices of the boy choir were chanting the pro- 


96 


HEE COLLEGE DAYS 


cessional as they found their seats and bowed 
their heads in prayer. The beautiful service 
that followed did not bring the usual sense of 
calm peace to Mrs. Darcy. An undercurrent of 
something dark and disturbing, she was hardly 
conscious what, distracted her. She tried to 
ignore it, but it was there, and when once more 
at home with a quiet hour before dinner (Lois 
had stayed to Sunday-school), she sat down to 
reason with herself. It did no good, however. 
Simply recognizing the ugly thing gave it shape 
and increased its power. She was beginning 
now to feel that “ those women,” as she called 
them in her hurt, angry thoughts, were right. 
It was a disadvantage to Lois to keep her shut 
out from the innocent mirth and gay good-fel- 
lowship of college life. And no doubt she was 
stunting her child’s full development by not 
placing her where she would be compelled to 
think and act for herself. As soon as she began 
to allow herself to believe this, it was only 
another step for the mother love to cry out, 
“ What shall I do ? O Lord, help me !” It 
was an earnest prayer from an agonized heart. 
Mrs. Darcy was not a selfish mother, but for 
sixteen years her life had been absorbed, merged 


VESPEHS 


97 


in the life of her child. To take her away now 
would be to rudely twist and tear and leave 
bleeding and lifeless the tendrils that had been 
growing closer and firmer every day of those 
sixteen years. And then the agonizing uncer- 
tainty of what was best for Lois. She did so 
earnestly covet the best for her, but it was so 
hard to be sure what that might be. 

She was no nearer any conclusion when Lois 
came home, and finding her mother pale and 
languid, instantly divined a sick headache, an 
old St. Mark’s foe, that with the change of 
climate seemed to have been thoroughly routed. 
Mrs. Darcy would have been glad to cover her 
trouble with that friendly cloak if it had been 
possible, but she was no dissembler, even in 
trifles, and the only thing left to do was to 
make a vigorous effort and throw off the horrid 
incubus, in which she succeeded so well as to be 
carried over to the opposite extreme of feverish 
gayety. Lois did not understand her mother’s 
mood, but of one thing she felt sure — she could 
not be quite well, and she kept an anxious but 
covert watch of her. 

At dinner Isabel invited Lois to go to vespers 
with her. Lois said she had decided to decline 
7 


98 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


all invitations to-day in favor of her mother, who 
had never yet attended vespers, and Lois wanted 
her to go ; but if Isabel wished to go with them 
both, they would both be very glad — with a 
glance at her mother which sought approval. 

Mrs. Darcy was in such a sensitive frame of 
mind that this new proof of Lois’s thoughtful- 
ness, little as it was, came near proving disas- 
trous to her self-control. But she was able to 
combat successfully the sudden impulse to tears 
and second Lois’s invitation warmly, whereupon 
Isabel expressed her pleasure in word and look. 
She admired Mrs. Darcy greatly, and was proud 
and happy to go anywhere with her. 

It proved a wearing afternoon for Mrs. Darcy. 
She always looked forward to Sunday afternoon 
as a time for a sweet and restful visit with Lois, 
but Lois was so anxious about her mother’s un- 
usual looks and manner that Mrs. Darcy rather 
welcomed the advent of some Sunday callers, 
some of the college girls who had come in, they 
said, to have Mrs. Darcy “ talk good ” to them. 
Yet all through the talk that followed, bright 
and sweet most of it, she was conscious of the 
wearying struggle still going on within, until it 
became almost more of an effort than she was 


VESPERS 


99 


equal to to keep up her share in the conversa- 
tion. It was a relief when the time came for 
the girls to go off to keep their various engage- 
ments for vespers and Isabel came over to keep 
hers. 

But it was not in human nature to be insen- 
sible to the soothing influences of that perfect 
hour of a perfect day. The bright, soft air, 
the lengthening shadows, the sunshine filtering 
through the gathering mists like gold-dust, all 
combined to bring more of peace than Mrs. 
Darcy had known for many hours. By the 
time they had reached the campus her heart was 
already lighter, and she was able to feel a keen 
joy in the beauty that seemed to rush to meet 
her there. Every day in this beautiful chang- 
ing fall, nature had presented a new aspect. 
To-day she was all golden, and as they entered 
the campus the trees, yellow elms and maples, 
gave an impression of pushing forward and fill- 
ing all the vacant spaces. A high wind the 
night before had shaken down many of the 
leaves, so that the ground was “ thick inlaid 
with patines of bright gold.” The effect was 
bewildering. The sheen of color was dazzling 
and so blended in the sunset sky, the atmos- 


100 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


phere, the foliage and the ground that one felt 
half dizzy and confused with the golden 
splendor. 

They went in with the throng of girls stream- 
ing in in all directions from their afternoon 
walks, and when they reached the chapel they 
found it fast filling and the rich low tones of 
the organ beginning the opening voluntary. A 
tall, graceful girl with sweet face and stylishly 
arranged hair who, Lois whispered to her 
mother, had been a model of Gibson’s for 
his “ Life ” pictures, showed them to a seat 
half-way up the middle aisle. It was a very 
interesting sight to Mrs. Darcy, the room full 
of young girls, most of them pretty or looking 
so in their Sunday bravery, and many of them 
without hat or wrap, which gave an odd effect 
to a religious assembly. There was quite a 
sprinkling of men, too, most of them from 
Houghton, but a few of them were Norwood 
beaux who had either escorted their fair friends 
to the vesper service, or were there in the hope 
of meeting or seeing them. On the platform 
sat the choir of forty girls, selected, one might 
almost have thought, for their good looks as 
well as their singing ability. And behind the 


VESPERS 


101 


desk, in his high-backed chair, sat the vener- 
able President, on whom every eye rented with 
loving respect. 

Very soon the organ modulated into the 
opening strains of “ Jerusalem the Golden.” 
They sang it through every verse and to listen to 
those hundreds of clear, soaring voices was to 
wish the hymn twice its length. 

“ Gifted in prayer ” has a slightly irreverent 
sound, but nothing else seems to explain or de- 
scribe the wonderful beauty and power of the 
prayers that the young women of Gale listen to 
day after day, week after week, year after year, 
from their President. 

“ Before the mountains were brought forth 
or ever Thou hadst formed the earth and the 
world, even from everlasting to everlasting Thou 
art God.” 

Solemnly, grandly, in a clear, resonant voice, 
the words rolled over the bowed heads of that 
hushed assembly. 

“O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is Thy 
name in all the earth. 

“ When I consider Thy heavens, the work of 
Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou 
hast ordained, 


102 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“ What is man that Thou art mindful of him, 
and the son of man that Thou visitest him ?” 

Ah, yes ; it was easy now to see where he had 
got that wonderful “ gift of prayer ” — from 
much study of that matchless hook of prayer ; 
his whole soul was filled with the Psalmist’s 
words of invocation and petition. 

“ Yet hast Thou permitted us, O Lord, to 
behold the glory of this perfect day ; for Thou 
hast made us a little lower than the angels and 
hast crowned us with glory and honor. 

“ Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor yet 
hath it entered into the heart of man to con- 
ceive the glories of that eternal city which Thou 
hast prepared for them that love Thee. Yet 
hast Thou vouchsafed unto Thy servants, O Lord 
most high, a glimpse of the glory that is to 
come in the splendor of the beauty with which 
Thou hast clothed the world to-day. And if 
our finite hearts are filled to overflowing with 
the beauty of our earthly dwelling-place, help 
us to realize therefrom the ineffable delights 
that await us when we shall abide in the beauty 
of Thy presence. Drive from our hearts all 
sordid and base thoughts; fill us with aspira- 
tions for that which is nobler and higher in the 


VESPEES 103 

life here and which shall make us more meet to 
enter into the life hereafter. 

“ If there are those in Thy presence to-day, O 
Lord, who have failed in living up to their own 
high ideals ; failed in following in the footsteps 
of the lowly Jesus of Nazareth ; who, discour- 
aged, or careless, or frivolous, are seeking only 
the joys and pleasures of this world, let not 
this day which Thou hast sent as a harbinger of 
heaven’s joys fail in its mission to them. May 
it help them to realize how empty and tasteless 
is the cup from which they are drinking, and 
may they grasp instead, with firm hand, the 
cup which Thou wouldst press to their lips, full 
to overflowing with love and eternal life. 

“ And if in any heart bowed before Thee there 
lies the crushing weight of sorrow, or dark and 
brooding care or distracting anxiety, let the 
peace of this holy hour descend upon it. Teach 
them, O Lord, how close about us lie the glories 
of that other world from which to-day Thou 
hast lifted the veil a little, and revealed to our 
mortal eyes a brief vision of our radiant and 
eternal future. 

“ Show them how transitory are the sorrows 
and troubles of this life. ‘ Joy cometh in the 


104 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


morning/ and the morning is eternal. Teach 
them to bring all their sorrows and all their 
cares and cast them upon Thee, the burden- 
bearer. May they each go forth from Thy 
presence with lightened hearts, as ‘ one whom 
his mother comforteth.’ 

“ And now, O Lord, we pray Thee, strengthen 
the weak, deliver the tempted, rouse the care- 
less, help the needy, comfort the sorrowing. 
And let the beauty of our Lord be upon us, 
and the glory, and the praise, and the power be 
Thine forever and forever.” 

Softly, to the low tones of the organ, the 
choir and the congregation chanted with heads 
still bowed, “ Our Father, who art in heaven.” 
The second “ Amen,” soft and distant, dropped 
down like an angel’s benediction. Then, after 
a moment’s pause, the heads were lifted, but the 
music went on. Exquisite harmonies, so faint and 
far they seemed more like strains from angel 
choirs than any earthly music. The listeners 
were almost afraid to breathe, lest they should 
lose some ravishing note. At last, but very 
gradually, the distant strains grew nearer, they 
rose, they swelled until they rolled forth a 
mighty triumphant paean, then gradually they 


VESPEKS 


105 


died away again to the same divine and distant 
harmonies, and while every ear was strained to 
catch the last lingering notes, a single, rich 
baritone voice rose soft and clear, 

“ Come unto me ye that labor and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest.” 

The voice ceased, and the organ modulating 
again into the music of the beautiful vesper 
hymn softly sung, made a fitting ending to the 
brief and beautiful service. 

“ Day is dying in the west, 

Heaven is touching earth with rest. 

Wait and worship while the night 
Sets her evening lamps alight 
Through all the sky. 

Holy, holy, holy, 

Lord God of hosts, 

Heaven and earth are full of Thee, 

Heaven and earth are praising Thee, 

0 Lord most high.” 

On the wings of music and of prayer had 
flown away all Mrs. Darcy’s doubt and distress. 
She did not know what decision she might 
finally come to with regard to Lois ; some day 
she would take time and think it all out ; but 
whatever it might be, she would no longer let 
herself be distressed and unhappy. She would 
try to do the best thing, and leave the results to 


106 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Him who can make all things work together for 
good. She felt as if the prayer and the music 
and the hymns had been all for her. With a 
light heart she laid aside every care and entered 
at once upon her heritage of joy and peace. 

As they passed out into the corridor, they 
found Mr. Beacher and Mr. Hamilton in wait- 
ing to walk home with them if they might, — a 
permission readily granted. It was nearly dark; 
a yellow glow in the west was all that remained 
of the golden day. There was a frosty touch 
in the air that had not been there when they 
went in to vespers, and that made the brisk 
walk up Elm Street none the less pleasant. 

It was just supper time when they reached 
Mrs. Waters’s, and Mrs. Darcy, whose hospitable 
instincts would not permit her to send away 
hungry, two young men seven miles from home, 
invited them to remain to supper, an invitation 
the girls would never have dared to give, but 
which they were not at all sorry to see quickly 
and gratefully accepted. Of course, the rest of 
the girls were all thrown into a flurry of excite- 
ment by the presence of the Houghton men at 
the supper table, but the excitement was not an 
unpleasurable one. They had all met them on 


VESPERS 


107 


the mountain, and they had therefore much of 
mutual interest to talk over, and it was an ani- 
mated supper table with no embarrassing 
silences. After supper they adjourned to Mrs. 
Darcy’s sitting-room, warm and bright with the 
rosy light from the lamp and the ruddy fire-light. 

Mrs. Darcy sat down to the piano, and with 
Lois for soprano, Isabel for alto, Mr. Beacher 
for tenor, and Mr. Hamilton for bass, they had 
a fine quartette, and sang the beautiful hymns 
in the college collection until Mrs. Darcy re- 
fused to play for them any longer, for fear of 
tiring their voices. 

Then they sat around the fire and talked, and 
it was not all frivolous talk either. Much that 
was earnest and manly, and many things that 
were true and womanly were said, until suddenly 
Mr. Beacher sprang to his feet with an excla- 
mation : “ Mr. Hamilton, had you any idea it 
was ten o’clock ?” 

And when “ The Giant,” who did not seem 
at all timid with Mrs. Darcy, though he was 
still a little constrained with Lois, shook hands 
with Mrs. Darcy at parting, he said : 

“ This is the most home-like evening I have 
spent since I came to college.” 


108 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


And then, when they were all gone, Lois 
turned to her mother : 

“ Mamina, this has been almost as good as 
Sunday evenings at St. Mark’s, when some of 
the boys used to come in to supper and we had 
such nice times singing afterward. Oh, I don’t 
see what girls at college do without a mother !” 

And that was the crowning touch of happiness 
to the peace that had come to Mrs. Darcy at 
vespers. 


CHAPTER VIII 


OCTOBER DAYS 

It was Friday afternoon, and Lois was just 
going out of the door, hat on, books under her 
arm, bound for her two o’clock recitation. She 
had half closed the door, when she stopped and 
put her head in again. 

“ Don’t forget, mamma. Three o’clock sharp, 
in front of the old gymnasium. You must go 
to Paradise.” With this rather startling an- 
nouncement, and with an assurance from her 
mother that she would be on hand, she departed, 
and promptly at three o’clock Mrs. Darcy was 
in front of the old gymnasium waiting for Lois, 
and looking off toward the wooded heights 
where she had been informed Paradise lay. 
Lois came out in a minute and begged her to 
wait a few minutes longer until she should run 
down to the new gymnasium for some oars. 

“ I have been awfully lucky to get a boat on 
this lovely day, but I did, and I am going to 
give you a row ; won’t that be fine ?” 

109 


110 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


She didn’t wait for an answer, but was off like 
a flash, and in an incredibly short time reap- 
peared with a pair of oars over her shoulder. 

“ But Lois,” said her mother, as she rejoined 
her, “what is Paradise? I had no idea there 
was any water there.” 

“You’ll see,” said Lois, “ and I only hope it 
will surprise you as completely as it did me. 
I have been hearing of Paradise ever since I 
came, but I have had the vaguest ideas as to 
how to find it or what it was, and so when Miss 
Baker took me there the other day, I was thor- 
oughly astonished and delighted, and deter- 
mined on the spot that you should see it the 
very first pleasant day.” 

They were passing down behind all the great 
college houses, beyond the observatory, past the 
greenhouses and the botanical gardens, through 
a gate across a road, where they stopped on a 
high embankment. 

With a tragic wave of her hand, Lois said : 
“ Behold !” And the surprise and delight 
depicted on her mother’s face was all she could 
desire. Below them lay a winding sheet of 
water, sometimes widening to the dimensions of 
a modest lake, sometimes narrowing to a small 


OCTOBER DAYS 


111 


river. The opposite banks were high and bril- 
liant with flaming reds and yellows. It was a 
warm day, a little bit of the late summer back 
again, and a soft purple haze gave an impres- 
sion of wider extent and the charm of indefi- 
niteness to the sylvan scene. If anything else 
was needed to make it seem like a bit from one 
of Turner’s ideal landscapes, it was supjdied by 
the boats gliding in various directions over the 
smooth water, rowed by girls in light summer 
dresses. The soft tinkle of a guitar accompany- 
ing two voices, a soprano and alto, in “ Fair 
Gale,” completed the illusion for Mrs. Darcy 
that this was a scene out of some old romance, 
and not a bit of every-day life that had been 
going on ever since she had been in Norwood, 
almost at her very door, for Lois told her the 
road they had just crossed was College Lane, 
and if they should follow it up a short two 
minutes’ walk it would take them on to Elm 
Street, just above Mrs. Waters’s. Lois had to 
rouse her mother finally from her dream-like 
state of reverie, to go down to the little dock, 
where they found a boat moored, and, stepping 
in, pushed off. They glided across the lake and 
then followed the curving shore for a long dis- 


112 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


tance, under overhanging branches. Lois said 
they could go probably for miles, for they were 
in Mad River, and nothing to hinder their row- 
ing right on to the Camelot. 

They were approaching a little cove, a natural 
harbor with a pretty little beach, and shut in 
by drooping elms and maples. Lois had just 
said if they had any way of getting the boat 
back, they would land there, and return through 
the woods, it was so picturesque ; and she wanted 
her mother to see just as much of Paradise as 
possible. 

“ Boat ahoy 1” some one called, as they bent 
their heads to pass under the low hanging 
branches into the little cove. Lois lifted her 
head quickly and looked over her shoulder. 

“ Miss Baker and Miss Felton ! Don’t you 
want a boat ride ?” 

The two girls were seated on a big boulder at 
the foot of the great elm, that formed the prin- 
cipal part of the canopy over the cove, and they 
greeted Mrs. Darcy before Miss Baker re- 
sponded. “ Of course we do, little sister ; but 
you don’t suppose that little skiff will hold four, 
do you ?” 

“ Oh ! no ; I only thought you might like a 


OCTOBER BAYS 


113 


row, and if so you can take the boat back for 
me ; mamma and I want to walk back through 

7 o 

the woods.” 

“ Nothing would delight us more ; we were 
just longing for a boat,” said both girls to- 
gether. 

“ Let me have the end of your oar, and I’ll 
pull you in, little sister,” added Miss Baker, 
and it took a very few minutes to effect the 
change of elements — the two girls on the water 
and Lois and her mother on terra firma. 

“ I wish we had an hour or two,” said Lois, 
consulting her watch, “ to explore all these 
winding paths. It is just full of the loveliest 
places ; but we have exactly three-quarters of 
an hour till Analysis, and I would not miss it 
to-day for anything ; we are to have the Sonata 
Pathetique.” 

But in three-quarters of an hour they found 
they had time to dip into many a lovely 
dell and climb many a picturesque headland, 
filling their hands with treasures from the 
woods — bits of exquisite moss, bright colored 
lichens, and gorgeous branches of scarlet, and 
gold maple, and crimson oak for decorating 
their rooms. 

8 


114 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


When they reached the college they left their 
treasures in the janitor’s room, and hurried to 
the Music Hall, to find it already rapidly filling. 
The Friday afternoon concerts were always 
thronged, hut they managed to secure two very 
good seats where they could see the professor as 
well as hear him. They had a rich feast before 
them — Schubert, Chopin, Mendelssohn, Bee- 
thoven, and the great master, represented by 
his great masterpiece, if to any single composi- 
tion of his can be accorded that title. 

The concert was preluded by a half-hour’s 
talk on the four great composers, and to Mrs. 
Darcy it was a renewed wonder how a man with 
none of the external signs of genius, unless 
a somewhat eccentric personnel be one, with a 
face that was absolutely impassive, could be not 
only keenly analytic in his dissection of the 
composers and their works, but could rise to 
such heights of eloquence as almost to sweep one 
off his feet, metaphorically speaking, and then 
follow the half-hour’s talk with an hour of ex- 
quisite music flowing from his finger tips — im- 
promptus, nocturnes, concertos, bewitching, en- 
trancing, bewildering — and then the final grand, 
absorbing, indescribable Sonata Pathetique. 


OCTOBER DAYS 


115 


As they passed out into the fast- deepening 
twilight, Lois sighed. “ I feel just stuffed with 
beauty. I don’t believe I could stand another 
thing to-day. That lovely Paradise and that di- 
vine music ! My eyes and my ears, and my soul 
are full. What an ideal life it is, this life at 
Gale !” And her mother felt so too. 

Mr. Hamilton had been to call twice since the 
Vesper Sunday. Once Lois was out to supper 
and to spend the evening at one of the college 
houses, and at first he was greatly disappointed. 
But Mrs. Darcy had received him so kindly and 
entertained him so delightfully that he had gone 
away quite reconciled. 

The other time he had been more fortunate, 
and had found Lois and her mother both at 
home. And although he and Mrs. Darcy still 
did most of the talking, he felt that it was pleas- 
ure enough to be sitting by that cozy fire talk- 
ing to the mother and looking at the daughter ; 
which last, however, he did very discreetly. 

Lois had quite lost her fear of him, but he 
was not “ easy to talk to,” she thought, and she 
contented herself with an occasional saucy 
speech or expression of opinion at variance with 
his, which, if it was intended to draw him into 


116 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


conversation with her, proved a dismal failure. 
For he received everything she said with a slow 
look of admiration and a polite rejoinder, and 
immediately addressed himself again to her 
mother. Lois would have thought him stupid, 
but his conversation with her mother showed he 
was not. He was a little slow, perhaps, and not 
witty, and yet, in spite of his apparent ignoring 
of her, Lois rather liked him, he was so big and 
simple-hearted and manly. 

The lovely October days were flying fast. 
Lois and her mother, anxious to make the most 
of them, had taken many delightful walks and 
two or three rides, for Mrs. Darcy was as fond 
of riding as her daughter. And on one of 
their rides they had met Mr. Hamilton on a 
powerful gray horse, and he had asked permis- 
sion to join them. And Lois, thinking his 
beast had a suspiciously Clydesdale or Percheron 
look, built more for strength than speed, mali- 
ciously challenged him to a race, and of course, 
quickly out-distanced him, as she knew she 
would. But he forgave her when she came 
dashing back, with hair and skirts flying 
behind her and looking distractingly pretty. 
He was big, and therefore so soft-hearted he 


OCTOBER DAYS 


117 


was ready to forgive anything to a pair of bright 
eyes and rosy cheeks, or at least to a pair of 
bright eyes and rosy cheeks that were just then 
playing sad havoc with his impressionable 
southern heart. 

They were riding toward Old May ville. Mrs. 
Darcy had driven there once with Mrs. Waters, 
and had ever since been anxious to have Lois 
see the most beautiful and the most typical of 
New England villages. They walked their 
horses slowly through the magnificent avenue of 
elms, a mile long, such trees as Mrs. Darcy and 
Lois had never seen and hardly imagined. And 
scarcely less interesting than the elms were the 
quaint gambrel-roofed houses, some of them fine 
specimens of old colonial architecture and built 
in old colonial days. Coming from the west, 
this old New England teeming with historical 
associations was intensely interesting. 

At the end of the street they turned their 
horses to ride back again through the same 
magnificent avenue, but Mr. Hamilton proposed 
if they had never seen Old Bradley they should 
return through that still older and quainter 
village. There was just one objection — the 
ferry. Mrs Darcy could not get used to what 


118 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


seemed to her a very perilous way of crossing 
the river ; but Mr. Hamilton was with them, 
and he suggested they should dismount and 
let him hold the horses, and that would save 
all nervousness. 

The road to the ferry lay between orchards 
bending with their tempting fruit. And now 
Mrs. Darcy and Lois had an opportunity of 
seeing for the first time an apple harvesting. 

Boxes and barrels filled with the golden and 
crimson spheres and piles of them under every 
tree. Men with ladders and long poles care- 
fully picking the fruit and women sorting and 
packing it, and because the October air, exhil- 
arating as wine for walking or riding, was cool 
to stand in all day, the women had always some 
bright shawl about their shoulders or gay scarf 
about their heads to add a touch of color 
to the picturesque scene. And when, at one 
particularly fine orchard they stopped to watch 
the busy harvesters, there must have been 
something wistful in Mrs. Darcy’s looks, for a 
handsome young fellow, his dark eyes and 
brown curls and red shirt, giving him the air of 
a Neapolitan, brought her a handful of choice 
fruit, and at her delighted thanks told her where, 



A HANDSOME YOUNG FELLOW BROUGHT A HANDFUL OF FRUIT 

(See page 118) 



OCTOBER DAYS 


119 


a little farther clown the road she would find a 
yard with some fine eating apples, better than 
these, piled under a big tree, and they could go 
in and help themselves. 

As they rode away after thanking him 
heartily again, Lois addressed her mother in a 
tone of stern rebuke : 

“ Mamma, I want to know what you did to 
that young man. Did you bewitch him ? How 
could he know the thoughts of your heart? 
Mr. Hamilton, I feel compelled to make a start- 
ling revelation to you about my mother. There 
is one thing she will have by hook or by crook, 
by fair means or foul, and that is apples. And 
she very much prefers foul means to fair ; rob- 
bing an orchard is her one grand passion.” 

“ Lois !” was Mrs. Darcy’s reproachful ejacu- 
lation. “ Mr. Hamilton, please remember those 
apples are mine, and Lois is not to have one of 
them.” 

He had stowed Mrs. Darcy’s fruit in a capa- 
cious side pocket, and when they reached the 
designated pile he dismounted and filled his 
remaining pockets, until his symmetrical figure 
lost its graceful proportions and assumed some- 
what aldermanic outlines. 


120 


HEE COLLEGE DAYS 


He was riding between them, and Mrs. Darcy 
was still insisting that he should not give Lois a 
single apple because of her undutiful speech. 
He was assuring her that her lightest command 
was law to him, when Lois calmly leaned over 
from her horse and helped herself from his 
bulging pockets — a petty larceny he 'pretended 
not to see until it was too late. 

They found no difficulty at the ferry, for out 
of regard to Mrs. Darcy’s fears, they all dis- 
mounted, and could quietly enjoy the beautiful 
river, which was, if possible, more picturesque 
here than at the lower Hockanock ferry. 

Once over, they mounted their horses and came 
down the wide level road on a brisk canter. 
The shadows were lengthening as they came 
through Old Bradley, with its wide village 
green bordered on both sides by the pretty 
village street, with over-arching elms and quaint 
houses. It was the hour of the day at which 
Old Bradley looks most picturesque, with the 
long shadows on the level sward, and they would 
have liked to linger, but Mrs. Darcy said they 
were in danger now of being late to supper, 
and so they gave the reins to their horses and 
galloped across the meadows to the old Camelot 


OCTOBER DAYS 


121 


River bridge, where many notices posted along 
the road and on the bridge itself warned them 
to moderate their pace ; and so into the streets 
of Norwood and home. 

Mrs. Darcy had rather insisted that Mr. 
Hamilton should leave them on the other side 
of the river, it was so much nearer Houghton ; 
but he would have ridden many a mile for the 
pleasure of lifting Lois from her horse, even 
if the ride itself had not been a continued 
delight. 

At the door they found a man waiting to take 
the horses, who started to help Lois dismount ; 
but Mr. Hamilton was too quick for him. He 
was on the ground in a minute, and with an air 
of command he flung his bridle to the man. 

“ Hold my horse, please ; I will assist the 
ladies.” 

And so he proved that he might be slow 
of speech, but he was quick of action, ready 
to seize and command the situation if he 
desired it. 

But the October days kept flying. The 
leaves were almost gone now. Only the ivies 
were left, more gorgeous in their coloring than 
anything Lois had ever dreamed of. College 


122 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Hall, Art Hall, and First Church were as if 
cut from huge carnelians exquisitely carved and 
studded with rubies and garnets. And now 
even the ivies were falling and turning brown. 
October was fast drawing to a close, and the one 
topic of conversation was the Mansfield-Hough- 
ton foot-ball game early in November. 


CHAPTER IX 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 

The girls at Mrs. Waters’s had secured the 
swellest drag in town for the game, a big blue 
tally-ho, with baskets and horn complete. And, 
as there were places for a few more than their 
own party, they had invited some from the out- 
side to “ fill up,” and Lois had invited Miss 
Baker. 

A snow storm set in the day before and 
desolated their hearts. It looked as if there 
would be no game, or if there were that it 
would not be considered prudent to go in such 
weather. Saturday morning it was still snow- 
ing, and all hope of witnessing the game was 
abandoned, and loud were the lamentations. 
But about noon it suddenly cleared off, and the 
sun shone out warm and bright. Mrs. Waters 
and Mrs. Darcy consulted together and decided 
it was entirely safe to venture. 

Then there was hurrying to and fro. The 
order for the tally-ho had been countermanded, 

123 


124 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and now Lois was sent in hot haste to re-com- 
mand it. There was a scurry of messengers all 
over town to collect the scattered forces, and a 
general rush into warm clothing, while Mrs. 
Waters hurried up dinner. 

They had hoped to be off a little after one 
o’clock, for the roads, of course, would be 
heavy, but it was almost two when, at a brave 
blast from the horn by Isabel, who had been 
discovered to be the only one equal to that feat, 
the driver swung his long lash over the heads 
of the leaders, and they were off, proudly float- 
ing the Houghton colors. 

Their route lay through the town, and they 
created as much of a sensation as a party of 
girls on a tally-ho is usually willing to make, 
no matter how modest and retiring each one 
individually may be. The sun was shining 
brightly as they crossed the long bridge over 
the Camelot, and Mt. Hoary head and Mt. 
Ben were showing their snow-covered flanks 
through a rapidly lifting veil of mist. 

Through Old Bradley they wound their horn 
gayly to the delight of the Bradley small boy, 
and their four trusty steeds made such good 
time that the old college clock of Houghton 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 


125 


was just on the stroke of three, the hour for 
which the game was called, as they drove into 
the grounds. The open stand was already 
crowded with fair visitors, flying either the 
purple or the green, and two black masses were 
drawn up on either side of the field — Hough- 
ton men and Mansfield men — prepared to do 
their duty by their respective yells, whatever 
their men on the gridiron might do. 

The driver whipped up his horses, Isabel 
blew her best, and the color-bearers waved their 
flags as they swept round the head of the 
field to the Houghton side. And as soon as 
the Houghton men recognized their colors they 
greeted them with, “ Hah ! rah ! rah ! Hah ! 
rah ! rah ! Houghton !” At which the girls, 
suddenly disconcerted, dropped their flags and 
their horn. They were none the less proud, 
however, and glad they had not arrived as early 
as they had at first intended, when the salute 
would have been impossible. 

They had hardly drawn up in position behind 
the Houghton line when the two teams came 
running on the field in their green and white 
and purple and white sweaters. They looked 
very gay and picturesque, only their legs were 


126 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


so queer, thought Lois, who had never seen a 
foot-ball game and was eagerly taking in every 
detail. When they pulled off their sweaters 
and handed them to the men standing by to 
receive them, they were altogether “ queer.” 
She had not been prepared to see creatures 
stuffed and padded out of all semblance to 
manly grace, and looking in outline like noth- 
ing so much as like portraits of our Dutch 
ancestors. It was a distinct shock to Mrs. 
Darcy, too, who had expected something of the 
natty appearance of a base-ball nine. 

“ What is the matter with their hair ?” she 
asked anxiously of Miss Baker, who had seen 
many games and was explaining the points to 
the novices. 

“ Oh ! you know they have to wear it long, 
and when they pull off their sweaters over their 
heads it makes them look like that.” 

“ Well! they look like a set of shock-headed 
Esquimaux, with their seal-skin suits turned 
wrong-side out,” said Lois discontentedly. 
“ They don’t look nice.” 

“ Oh ! don’t you like them ?” exclaimed Miss 
Harrow, from her high seat at the back . “I love 
to see them in their suits ; I think they are dear.” 


Tally-Ho for Houghton 127 

Miss Harrow was au fait in foot-ball, and 
adored everything connected with it. 

“ Look, girls, they are going to begin !” said 
Lois, excitedly; “and I do believe that man 
crouching behind the crowd is Mr. Hamilton ; 
do you think it could be, mamma?” 

“ It does look like him,” said Mrs. Darcy, 
slowly, “ but I think it is hardly possible. He 
would surely have said he was going to play 
when you told him we were coming over to the 
game.” 

“ I should have thought so, too ; but he is so 
modest, and I thought it was queer he didn’t 
say at once he would come around to our drag, 
but instead he only said he would try to see 
us, if possible. That must be the reason. Girls, 
is that Mr. Hamilton ?” 

The girls all thought it was, but they had no 
time to decide, for just then play began, and it 
was all wild excitement. 

What Lois saw was a little crowd stooping 
around the ball in the centre, and some men 
on the outside, crouched as if for a spring. She 
heard a voice call three numbers ; it sounded 
like 157, 63, 29 ; then a big man, bigger than 
all the others, who stood off at a little distance 


128 


HEU COLLEGE LAYS 


with head down, made a sudden rush at the 
central crowd, who closed round him in a wild 
scramble, while one or two on the outside 
seemed to run aimlessly around the struggling 
mass, and one or two others, big, burly 
fellows, planted their backs against it and 
pushed. 

That was the way it looked to Lois, and when 
the seething, struggling mass all went down 
together, like some enormous centipede with 
wildly writhing legs, she could hardly keep 
from screaming, she was so sure some one was 
having the life crushed out of him under that 
solid mass of flesh and blood. 

The mass had writhed forward a little and 
crossed one of the white lines, then in a moment 
the struggle seemed to be over, the heap of com- 
posite humanity disintegrated slowly until only 
the lower one lay still with the ball under him. 
“ Lifeless,” Lois thought and shuddered, but in 
a moment he sprang nimbly up, and then they 
all got ready to go through the same thing 
again, only a little nearer the goal that was 
nearest their drag. 

“ Oh ! I do wish I could understand it,” said 
Isabel, eagerly. She was, if possible, even 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 


129 


more excited than Lois, and it was all such a 
bewildering muddle. 

“ If I only knew whether to wave my flag or 
not. Did Houghton gain that point or Mans- 
field ?” anxiously inquired Lois, who was one 
of the color-bearers and felt her responsibility. 

Nobody seemed to know, for nobody had 
yet discovered which was the Houghton and 
which the Mansfield goal ; and so her mother 
advised that she should watch a large purple 
flag near them, and wave when it waved. There 
was no telling from the yelling, for the Hough- 
ton “ police,” who stood just inside the line 
facing the Houghton men and so facing the 
drag, kept their men yelling at regular intervals. 

“ Now boys, the old yell, with a will ; Kali ! 
rah ! rah ! Rah ! rah ! rah ! Houghton !” Or 
sometimes, keeping time with his big cane, it 
was just, “ Houghton, Houghton, Houghton, 
Houghton !” 

It was a never-failing interest to watch the 
“ police,” fine-looking fellows, every one of 
them, and to see the obedient way in which the 
men responded to their ceaseless calls, splitting 
their throats in their efforts to out-yell Mans- 
field. Of course, they did it, as they were at 
9 


130 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


home and could muster more men, and it was 
some consolation to the party on the drag that 
the Houghton yell was the finest, for on the 
gridiron things were going wrong from the start. 
The Mansfield men were heavier and better 
players, it seemed to the girls, who were begin- 
ning to get a little inkling of the game, and 
could at least see that the Mansfield men were 
working steadily toward the goal, and the 
Houghton men were powerless to hold them 
back, though they seemed to be fighting splen- 
didly. Almost every time the line re-formed, one 
more white bar had been crossed and the Mans- 
field men had driven the ball so much nearer 
the goal. Occasionally though, the Houghton 
men forced them back a little, and then how the 
purple flags waved ! 

But the last white line was reached, and there 
the struggle was desperate and prolonged. Sud- 
denly some one broke loose from the struggling 
mass, darted over the line with the ball in his 
arms and made the first touch-down. And how 
Mansfield cheered ! No cadenced college yell, 
but wild cheers, which Houghton tried to drown 
with its “ old yell,” given again and again. 

Then, while the players scattered over the 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 


131 


field, each perhaps in a regularly assigned posi- 
tion, though the girls did not know, two men 
brought the ball out, and one, lying down, care- 
fully placed it according to the directions of the 
other, now a little to the right, now more to the 
left. Finally, after much stooping and sighting, 
it was just right. With one powerful kick it 
soared up in the air, high above and far beyond 
the goal. And now the girls understood what a 
touch-down, and what a goal was, and how much 
each counted ; and those who were keeping score 
put down six for Mansfield. 

Up to this time there had been no disaster, 
but in the midst of the next play the game was 
suddenly stopped ; two or three men gathered 
round one poor fellow stretched on the ground ; 
a negro in a purple sweater, who had been hov- 
ering around just inside the lines with a leather 
bag in his hand, rushed up, while one of the 
men who had been carrying the players’ dis- 
carded sweaters, ran forward and made a soft 
pillow of them under his head. What the negro 
did the girls could not see, but in a very few 
minutes the wounded man was up, trying to 
stand on a leg that seemed to be in splints. 

Mrs. Darcy had read much of the horrors of 


132 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


foot-ball, and on the ground of her reading had 
often inveighed against the brutal game. Now 
here she was actually assisting at one as a spec- 
tator, and having visible proof of its brutality 
in that poor fellow’s broken leg, for she thought 
it could be nothing less, and her heart sickened 
and her interest was all gone. But when the 
sufferer began to limp around and actually went 
right on playing, although still limping and ap- 
parently rendering no effective service, she be- 
gan to have doubts about the leg, and gradually 
found herself looking on again with renewed 
interest. The girls were loud in their expres- 
sions of sympathy; it was agonizing to see the 
poor fellow try to play with the painful limp, 
and it was a great relief to them all when he 
was at last obliged to give up and let some one 
take his place. 

The same little drama was enacted several 
times again during the game — some poor fellow 
left white on the ground after the rush, but the 
deft services of the attendant always seemed to 
produce miraculous results, and while every new 
calamity awoke a fresh sense of sickening hor- 
ror in the spectators on the drag, somehow, after 
a while, they seemed to get a little hardened. 


TALLY-HO FOE HOUGHTON 


133 


While not lacking in intense sympathy with the 
wounded, still they were able more and more 
readily to console themselves with the assurance 
that he was probably not much hurt, only a 
little stunned ; which Mrs. Darcy was inclined 
to think was a convincing proof of the brutal- 
izing effect of the game on the spectators, at 
least. 

In the meantime, Mansfield was making more 
touch-downs and more goals. The score when 
the first half was over stood eighteen to nothing. 
In the second half, Houghton played better ; 
but still there was no making any headway 
against that terrible centre rush, who went 
through the opposing lines with irresistible force, 
like some huge projectile hurled from some old 
Homan catapult. But Houghton made one 
magnificent play, and it was Mr. Hamilton who 
made it, for the girls had procured some books 
of the game and set their doubts at rest ; Mr. 
Hamilton w^as playing half-back for Houghton. 
There was still much that was unintelligible to 
the girls. They had mastered the mystery of 
the touch-down and the goal, but they could not 
understand the reason for the enigmatical num- 
bers that the referee or umpire or somebody 


134 


HEE COLLEGE DAYS 


always called out before the rush, and it was 
still more difficult to comprehend why once in 
a while, for no apparent reason, the ball was 
taken out of the centre, placed on a line, and 
deliberately kicked toward one goal, where 
some one always caught it and, hugging it close 
to his breast, started with it at full speed toward 
the opposite goal. But comprehend it or not, 
those were always the most exciting parts of the 
game, and it was there Mr. Hamilton made his 
splendid play. Somebody, they were not quite 
sure whether it was a Mansfield man or a 
Houghton man, kicked the ball (Miss Baker 
said she thought they called it punting). It 
was a fine kick anyway, and it went straight 
down the field to where Mr. Hamilton stood, 
tall and straight, watching for it. He caught 
it, and hugging it close with one arm, darted 
down the field, tacking to right and left as he 
ran, to avoid the men trying to seize him. 
Finally one succeeded in almost tackling him, 
but he threw him off with his disengaged arm 
and ran on. A second man grabbed his leg. 
He sprang forward on one foot and with the 
other hurled the man far from him. A third 
was more successful, and brought him to the 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 


135 


ground, but as he fell he flung himself loose 
from his grappler and was up in a second and 
on. Not until he had run sixty yards did they 
finally get him down. The Houghton men 
were wild. It was some time before they could 
be calmed down sufficiently to give the regular 
yell. But when the tall, good-looking officer 
standing nearest the drag said, 

“ Now men, the old yell, with Hamilton on 
the end, three times and" again !” they gave it 
with a will, and the girls were all so proud to 
think they were acquainted with the hero. 
They had been almost as wild as the men, stand- 
ing up on the drag and waving their flags and 
clapping their hands, and wanting awfully to 
blow their horn, but not quite daring to. 

That was the climax of the game to them. 
Mansfield made another touch-down and another 
goal ; the score was now twenty-four to nothing. 

The sun had gone down and it was growing 
very cold and dark. Some of the girls were 
really suffering with the cold, and Mrs. Darcy 
thought it was hardly prudent to wait for the 
close of the game. So the horses were un- 
blanketed, the girls got into their seats, wrapped 
their rpbes around them and prepared for a 


136 


HEE COLLEGE DAYS 


start. Miss Baker had an early engagement in 
town, and wanted to go home by the train, and 
to get to the station it was necessary to pass 
down behind the line of Houghton men and out 
of the gate at the other end of the grounds. 
And the men, to whom the drag full of pretty 
girls all so enthusiastically on their side had 
been an object of no small interest, took off their 
hats all along the line as they passed, and 
shouted, “ Good-bye !” greatly to the delight of 
the girls, who waved their flags in response. 

They had scarcely left the field when the 
game was called, just as Mansfield made another 
touch-down and another goal, an intelligence 
conveyed to the parting drag by the vociferous 
and continued cheering. 

They left Miss Baker at the station, and as 
they drove through the pretty village they met 
throngs coming from the field, and just opposite 
the campus the teams themselves, surrounded 
by a dense throng of excited and admiring men. 
The drag stopped to let them pass, when one of 
the men separated himself from the crowd and 
came up to them. It was Mr. Hamilton, grimy 
and dishevelled almost beyond recognition, but 
Mrs, Darcy and Lois, and all the girls that could 


TALLY-HO FOR HOUGHTON 137 

reach him were glad to grasp his hand and tell 
him how proud they were of him. 

In answer to Mrs. Darcy’s anxious inquiries 
as to how he felt after such an ordeal, he said he 
would come over to-morrow afternoon and ac- 
company them to vespers, if she would permit, 
when he would report on his health. Of course 
she would permit, and all the girls were im- 
mediately devoured with envy because they 
couldn’t appear at vespers with the foot-ball 
hero. 

The moon had just risen as they left the foot- 
ball grounds, and already it was bright enough 
to bring out in soft relief the beautiful campus, 
with the picturesque buildings on one side of 
the road and the President’s handsome house, 
the library buildings, and society houses on the 
other. Through its cold radiance, making their 
road almost as bright as day, they rode home, 
and kept themselves warm by singing college 
songs and shouting the praises of foot-ball. 


CHAPTER X 


DREAR NOVEMBER 

The game so long looked forward to was now 
only a thing of the past, and November was 
upon them in earnest. 

Mrs. Darcy thought so one morning as she 
was sitting in her favorite seat by the window 
with her sewing. The great maples opposite 
that had been such a delight to her were hare 
and brown ; all the glory and splendor had 
vanished from the earth, and instead there was 
only a great, gray swirling waste of waters, she 
thought, as the rain was driven in blinding 
sheets against her window, blotting out the hills 
and trees and even the familiar house across the 
street. And the gray blur was accompanied by 
the dismal shrieking of the wind, rising and 
falling in ghostly fashion. 

If Mrs. Darcy had been perfectly happy she 
would have rather enjoyed it. It was the kind 
of day she always did enjoy if she could remain 
at home by her own fireside with a good book, 

138 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


139 


or with Lois to talk to or read to her while she 
sewed. But to-day she could only think of tem- 
pest-tossed ships and lost souls borne away to 
perdition, and every other uncanny thing pos- 
sible, as the wind went howling by. 

She was not perfectly happy, evidently, and 
she knew why. She had said to herself when 
she saw this was to be a shut-in day, “ Now is 
the time for me to think it all over and decide 
about Lois.” Lois herself was away at college 
and would not return before one. For four 
hours she would be absolutely uninterrupted ; 
now was the time. And so she set herself to 
think. She had been accumulating evidence on 
both sides, and she determined now to sift it 
thoroughly and arrive at some conclusion. 

There had come to her knowledge recently — 
she was afraid it was very opportunely — the fact 
that there would be a vacancy in the Harvey 
House after Christmas, and the Harvey House 
was the very one she would most like Lois to be 
in, if in any. For in the Harvey House was a 
teacher Lois ardently admired, and with whom 
Mrs. Darcy would feel it was a great privilege 
to have her associated; and in the Harvey House 
was Miss Baker, the Junior who had adopted 


140 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois as a little sister, and whose influence with 
Lois was of the very best. 

As for Lois herself, she seemed perfectly 
happy in the present arrangement ; but a little 
incident a few days before had awakened doubts 
with her mother, whether, after all, it might not 
be only seeming. It was Saturday afternoon, 
and Mrs. Darcy was engaged in some rather 
cumbrous sewing, making alterations in a dress, 
when two callers were announced for Lois. They 
were strangers, this was their first call, and Mrs. 
Darcy retreated to the bedroom with her sewing, 
which was not ornamental. She was amused in 
listening to Lois’s rather strenuous efforts to en- 
tertain her guests, one of whom was a total 
stranger and the other she had met but once at 
a dance. Lois had not yet acquired perfect ease 
in playing the hostess ; her sense of responsi- 
bility was a little too great, and her desire to 
make her guests happy and comfortable too in- 
tense. It was a cold, raw day. Her guests had 
come in shivering, and found the open fire very 
bright and cheering. To still further warm 
them Lois insisted on making them a cup of 
chocolate. It was only the work of a moment — 
boiling the water in her little samovar and using 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


141 


evaporated cream — and lier guests professed to 
enjoy it greatly, though Mrs. Darcy always had 
her doubts about such professions. To her, 
chocolate made with water and evaporated 
cream after the regular college receipt, was 
very poor stuff, but she would not have said so 
to Lois. 

The smile that hovered about her lips as she 
listened to her little girl bustling about like a 
hospitable but rather fussy little housewife was 
not all one of amusement ; there was a tender 
and loving pride in the dear little hostess ex- 
pressed in it too. 

She was not listening to the conversation, 
though occasionally some of it reached her 
ears; but quite suddenly and distinctly she 
heard one of the visitors say : 

“ Is your mother with you ? Oh ! how 
perfectly lovely ! how I envy you !” 

And then Lois's reply. Mrs. Darcy was lis- 
tening eagerly for the sweet expressions of 
appreciation on Lois's part of her enviable lot. 
She knew they would come, of course ; she had 
heard them before ; but she was always greedy 
of every loving word from Lois. 

Instead, Lois said : “ Oh ! I don't know ; you 


142 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


have the going home to look forward to, and 
think of the delight it must be to see your 
mother after you have been away from her so 
long.” 

Poor Mrs. Darcy ! The words cut her to the 
quick. She did not realize that it was only a 
generous attempt on Lois’s part to make her 
guest satisfied with her less enviable fate. Lois 
was nothing if not polite when she was playing 
the hostess ; and sometimes her politeness led 
her into queer little blunders, as Mrs. Darcy 
herself had often observed. But now, blinded 
by the lurking suspicions that were ready at 
any such opportune moment as this to spring 
out and throttle her, she failed to interpret 
Lois’s motive, and her little speech rankled. 
This morning it came back to her vividly 
to add its weight to the array of reasons 
that seemed to be drawing themselves up in 
solid phalanx on the side of going away and 
leaving Lois in one of the college houses. 

Conscience, too, with Mrs. Darcy always a 
troublesome factor from its abnormal develop- 
ment, had arrayed itself on the side of the 
campus. These bleak days reminded her 
forcibly of her poor families in St. Mark’s 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


143 


whose welfare she had been in the habit of look- 
ing after for years, and whose list was added to 
every winter. She had left them in good hands; 
there was no doubt they were being well 
taken care of ; but she began to feel that per- 
haps she had been shirking to come away from 
St. Mark’s and leave all her work that used 
to keep her heart and hands so full. There did 
not seem to be any poor in Norwood, or at least 
she had not found them ; and there were plenty 
of women with nothing to do but to attend to 
church work and charity work. In a large city 
like St. Mark’s it was different ; there was 
always more work than workers, and her com- 
paratively idle life — a little reading, a little 
studying, a little sewing — had begun to weigh 
heavily on her conscience. 

Yet after all, she believed most thoroughly 
that her first duty was to Lois ; that nothing 
could weigh in the balance as compared with 
her good ; that other duties might be of her 
own seeking, but -she was a God-given trust; 
and the argument that finally presented itself 
with convincing power was that, as “ those 
women ” said, she was depriving Lois of rare 
opportunities for growth and rounded develop- 


144 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


ment, perhaps really stunting her social and 
mental and moral faculties. 

It was twelve o’clock, and the furious gale of 
a few hours before had settled down into a 
steady, monotonous rain, when she finally came 
to a definite decision that it was her duty to put 
Lois in the Harvey House and go back to St. 
Mark’s ; and just such a gray, leaden, monoto- 
nous color, she thought, would life be to her 
without Lois, unless, perchance, she had over- 
rated her strength, and the passionate longing 
and bitter pain that should sweep her poor 
heart would resemble more the wild gale of the 
morning. 

There were two reasons that might yet pre- 
vail against this decision ; one was the possi- 
bility that some one else had already secured 
the vacant place in the Harvey House, and the 
other that giving up their rooms in the middle 
of the year might prove a great inconvenience 
to good Mrs. Harding. If so, of course they 
could not think of doing it without fully com- 
pensating her for the loss, and Mrs. Darcy 
hardly felt able to afford that. She would take 
measures at once to settle these uncertainties 
by consulting the college Registrar and Mrs. 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


145 


Harding, and slie was not without a lurking 
hope that one or the other might present in- 
superable obstacles to her newly determined- 
upon plan of action. 

And of course there was the still further 
consideration that Lois herself might prove 
utterly unwilling to make any such arrange- 
ment, and if Mrs. Darcy saw that it was going 
to make her unhappy, she would only too gladly 
revoke the decision. But somehow she had but 
little hope of that. 

Still, with these “ glimmers ” to sustain her, 
and the bitter-sweet consolation that she was 
doing it all for the welfare and happiness of 
her darling, she schooled herself to meet Lois 
with a placid face. She decided to say nothing 
to her for the present. The Yale-Harvard foot- 
ball game was coming off soon at Springfield, 
and Lois was all excitement, together with the 
other college girls, who were going down almost 
en masse. She would not worry her with any 
troublesome questions until that was over. 

And then came Thanksgiving. They had 
planned to spend the five days’ holiday in 
Boston. Lois had never been in Boston and 
was looking forward to this little glimpse of the 
10 


146 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


modern Athens with eager anticipation. So Mrs. 
Darcy would not hroacli the subject until after 
their return. She would not mar in any way 
the little trip they had been planning and look- 
ing forward to so long. Now that she was going 
to be separated from her so soon, she should more 
than ever try to make the Boston trip one of 
unalloyed pleasure. It was very necessary that 
Lois and her mother should be careful in money 
matters, but Mrs. Darcy determined for this 
once to permit herself a little extravagance. 
They should have a nice room in one of the 
nicest hotels, and if there was anything very 
good to he heard or seen in the way of theatre, 
music, or art, Lois should hear it and see it. It 
should be a happy time for them both to re- 
member. And Mrs. Darcy carried out her 
plans perfectly. 

Lois went to the ball game chaperoned by one 
of the Professors, and accompanied by a party 
of her special friends. 

Mrs. Darcy had gone down to chapel with 
her in the morning to see the decorations. It 
was the day of all the year to attend chapel, 
everybody said. The college boarding-houses 
along Elm Street, as well as the houses on the 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


147 


campus, had vied with each other in their deco- 
rations. In some of the houses there was not an 
available spot that had not been covered with 
either the crimson or the blue. Flags, of which- 
ever color the owner of the room was loyal to, 
floated from every window. Harvard um- 
brellas and Yale umbrellas with H or Y in 
each division, Yale sofa-cushions and Harvard 
sofa-cusliions, and gigantic foot-balls made of 
poi3-corn and tied with red or blue ribbons 
dangled from window-blinds or hung suspended 
over the piazzas. Inside the chapel the scene 
was, if possible, even more brilliant. Every 
maiden had as many broad ribbons of crimson 
or of blue and bearing a conspicuous “ Har- 
vard ” or “ Yale ” as she could possibly wear, 
and those who were going to the game wore 
great bouquets of American Beauties or red 
chrysanthemums or carnations, if they were 
Harvard girls, or enormous bunches of violets 
if they were Yale. And then the unusual 
spectacle of men at morning prayer! Every 
available seat filled with Houghton men, Yale 
men, Winter’s men, or Harvard men, going to 
the game, but going to do duty as escorts to 
Fair Gale as well. Mrs. Darcy almost wished 


148 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


she was going herself, there was so much ex- 
citement and enthusiasm in the air ; but she 
enjoyed Lois’s going off with her blue flag and 
its white “ Y,” and wearing as a corsage bou- 
quet an enormous Y of violets, the gift of Miss 
Baker, who had invited Lois to go to the game, 
and was as attentive in sending flowers and 
looking after all small details as any Houghton 
or Yale escort could have been. And when 
Lois came back she said she had had a nice 
time, a very nice time ; it could not have been 
otherwise with such a pleasant party, and they 
had met Mr. Hamilton there, and he had come 
up on the same train with them. 

“ But, mamma,” said Lois, “ I do not believe 
I ever want to see another foot-ball game. It 
was awful ! It was brutal, and two or three 
men were dreadfully hurt. And Mr. Hamilton 
himself said it made him feel as if after all foot- 
ball was not much better than prize-fighting, 
and he felt almost ashamed of being a player. 
And I told him that I felt thoroughly ashamed 
of being a spectator at such an exhibition, and 
I should not be at all surprised if the next thing 
would be the introduction of the bull-fight, and 
we American women would gaze as complacently 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


149 


on the sufferings of the poor beasts and be as 
enthusiastic over the brave toreadors as our 
Spanish sisters. And Mr. Hamilton said that 
it was only one step further, although he was 
not sure but the bull-fight was much less brutal, 
for there it was only man against beast, and not 
man against man. He said he was glad the 
foot-ball season was over ; he believed before 
another season he would take time to consider 
whether he cared to go on with a sport that he 
had begun to believe was what its opponents 
called it — brutalizing. Of one thing he was 
sure ; if it had to be played as it was played to- 
day, he would never go near the gridiron again. 
It was degrading. ” 

But if the ball game had been a disappointment, 
the Boston trip was not. They went down the 
Wednesday before Thanksgiving on the after- 
noon train, getting in just in time for dinner at 
the loveliest hotel on Beacon Street, where they 
had what Lois called the “ sweetest room.” 
Dinner in the evening was a delight in itself, it 
was so like home in St. Mark’s, for in Norwood 
they had dinner at noon, and they missed the 
pleasant, social evening meal. Lois’s experi- 
ence in hotel life had been very limited, and the 


150 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


perfect appointments and delightful service of 
The Burlington were a pleasurable excitement 
in themselves. 

Mrs. Darcy did not want a minute of the 
little visit wasted, so they called for a paper 
while waiting for their dinner and looked over 
the list of amusements. Lois should decide 
where they were to go. It was not difficult ; 
Melba was to sing that very evening with the 
Anton Seidl orchestra of New York ; it was 
only a question of securing seats at that late 
hour. The attentive waiter said he would find 
out at the office, and while they were still at 
dinner he brought them their tickets. It gave 
Lois a comfortable sense of luxury. 

“ Isn’t it almost like ‘ Looking Backward/ 
mamma, just to sit in your hotel and have every- 
thing arranged for you without a bit of trou- 
ble?” 

“ Shall I order a carriage for you, madam ?” 
said the obsequious waiter, as they were leaving 
the table, and to Lois’s astonishment and al- 
most horror, her mother said yes. 

Lois took Mrs. Darcy roundly to task for her 
extravagance when they reached their room, but 
her mother only said she knew it was extra va- 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


151 


gant, but she had deliberately made up her 
mind to be extravagant on this trip. They 
were going to pretend for a few days that they 
were rich, rich enough at least to indulge in 
some unusual luxuries. And Lois, who was as 
fond as most young girls are of luxury when she 
could reconcile it with her conscience, put on a 
pretty dress and hat and passed out through the 
hotel corridor with her mother, who had on what 
Lois called her grand air, as natural to her on 
some occasions as her habitual air of retiring 
gentleness, and got into the carriage with some- 
thing of the feeling and quite the bearing of a 
young princess. 

And the delight of the concert! The old 
music hall filled with handsomely dressed people 
giving one such a feeling of well-being to be a 
part of them ; and Melba ! 

Lois had keen musical nerves and Melba’s 
voice was ravishing to them. As she sang Lois’s 
eyes grew wider and darker, and a rich spot of 
color glowed in each cheek, until people near her 
began to notice the radiant girl wholly absorbed 
in the music, and her mother, stealing an occa- 
sional glance at the glowing face, thought she 
had never seen her so beautiful. 


152 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


A happy, excited girl rode back in the car- 
riage with her mother. She was too happy and 
excited when they reached their room to think 
of going to sleep, or of doing anything but talk 
of the lovely music and the good time they were 
having. 

The next day was just as happy. They had 
a late breakfast, just in time for a brisk walk 
through the frosty air to Edward Everett Hale’s 
church, for they not only wanted to hear but to 
see a man whom they had so long loved and 
honored at a distance. It was not quite like 
Thanksgiving Hay, to have to go back to the 
hotel for dinner, but it was a very good dinner, 
nevertheless. 

They had arranged for a drive through Com- 
monwealth Avenue and the Back Bay, and then 
out to Cambridge to see the Longfellow house, 
and, at least, the outside of Harvard. It was quite 
dark when they got back to the hotel, and they 
were thoroughly chilled from their long drive ; 
so Mrs. Darcy had a fire lighted to give it a 
more home-like air, and as she did not think it 
quite the thing to go to any place of amusement 
on Thanksgiving Day (she said it was too much 
like Sunday), they concluded to provide them- 


DREAR NOVEMBER 


153 


selves with some books and magazines, and 
spend a cozy evening in their own room. They 
were two people who, give them a good book, 
an open fire, and the society of each other, could 
be happy anywhere. 

Friday and Saturday they heard Ysaye and 
the Symphony Concert, and on both Lois ex- 
pended an amount of enthusiasm sufficient to 
have exhausted any other species of creature but a 
college girl. The mornings were occupied with 
sight-seeing and shopping — that occupation dear 
to every well-regulated woman’s heart, and Lois 
and her mother were exceedingly well-regulated. 

Saturday afternoon was spent in getting what 
Lois said was only a tantalizing glimpse of the 
art treasures in the museum. And then Sun- 
day intervened and they took some much- 
needed rest, only going to Trinity in the morn- 
ing, where the music and the service were so 
beautiful, but where they missed the noble 
presence and the inspired voice of one they had 
both longed to see, and attending vespers at 
the Arlington Street Church to hear the ex- 
quisite singing. 

Monday morning there was a little more sight- 
seeing, a little more shopping, then home to the 


154 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


hotel to put their few things into their steamer 
trunk, have a last cozy luncheon together, and 
take the afternoon train for Norwood ; and it 
was a thoroughly tired, but supremely happy 
girl who returned to that historic town — not 
quite so fresh for study, perhaps, as she might 
be, but with a rich store of happy memories 
added to her life. 


CHAPTER XI 


LAST DAYS 

Mrs. Darcy had deferred telling Lois of her 
decision until she should recover a little from 
her dissipation. She had been almost as happy 
as Lois in Boston, for she had resolutely dis- 
missed every thought of approaching sorrow, 
and given herself up to the enjoyment of the 
present with Lois. Still, lurking in the back- 
ground, there was always the consciousness of 
that dreadful decision so soon to be made, and 
now that they were home again, and a good 
night’s sleep had seemed to thoroughly restore 
Lois’s exhausted faculties, she knew the evil day 
could be put off no longer. 

She had seen both Mrs. Harding and the 
Registrar. Mrs. Harding had said that of 
course they would be sorry to lose Mrs. Darcy 
and Lois, to whom they had become very much 
attached, but perhaps, after all, it was the best 
thing that could happen. She and her daugh- 
ter had been thinking, ever since the cold 

155 


156 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


weather set in, how much they would like to 
close their house and spend the winter in 
Florida or Southern California. And if Mrs. 
Darcy should decide to return to St. Mark’s, 
there would be nothing to prevent their 
doing so. 

Of course, Mrs. Darcy regarded this as 
another “ indication,” and felt that the lurking 
hope she had cherished in that direction was 
crushed. There was no trouble with the Regis- 
trar either. She was readily given the refusal 
of the Harvey vacancy for ten days, and now 
the ten days were nearly up and there was 
nothing left but to tell Lois. 

The opportunity came that very evening. 
Lois had been to an afternoon recitation with 
Miss Belden, and she always came home after 
those recitations full of Miss Belden’s wise and 
witty sayings. 

She was relating some of them now as she 
was dressing for supper, brushing out her curls 
and walking back and forth, in her excitement, 
from the dressing-room to the sitting-room, 
where her mother was seated with some Christ- 
mas work. Lois had on a pretty pink dress- 
ing sacque particularly becoming to her dark 


LAST DAYS 


157 


eyes, fair complexion, and bronze hair, and as 
she stopped to repeat a special criticism of Miss 
Belden’s, with the brush and one curly lock 
suspended in her upraised hand, Mrs. Darcy 
took in greedily all the details of the pretty 
picture, keenly conscious how few now were the 
times she should see it, and how often she 
would long to see it. 

“ Miss Belden doesn’t like Trilby ; neither 
does Charles Dudley Warner, mamma.” 

Lois and her mother had just been reading 
Trilby together and thoroughly enjoyed it, and 
so her eyes were quite big with excitement as 
she announced this heresy of Miss Belden’s. 

“ Charles Dudley Warner says he feels, after 
reading it, as if he had been conducted through 
Banbury Fair by a very clever guide, who had 
shown him the double-headed lady and the 
snake-headed boy. It was very well done, but he 
would rather go to the National Gallery for art. 
What do you suppose he means, mamma ?” 

“Well, I suppose his idea is, that making 
Trilby the most miraculous songstress the world 
has ever heard by the agency of hypnotism, is 
a species of charlatanry unworthy of an artist.” 

“ I suppose so ; but I am glad you and I are 


158 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


not critics, mamma. We can just enjoy a story, 
and don’t have to stop to think whether it is 
good art or not. Miss Belden doesn’t like 
Dickens either. She says there is an immense 
amount of bad writing in all his stories. She 
doesn’t even like ‘ Bleak House,’ and she thinks 
Esther is a most tiresome creature. She says 
she always has visions of her going around 
with a basket of cold victuals under her shawl, 
and insisting on feeding everybody, whether 
they were hungry or not.” 

“ Well, dearie, Miss Belden is not the only 
one who doesn’t like Dickens. She has a large 
and eminently respectable constituency there. 
And I think we can agree with her that he has 
much that can be called very poor writing, if it 
is to be measured by rules and standards ; but 
the charm of Dickens for those who love him 
is something outside of all that. They agree 
with his critics that he caricatures human 
nature, and yet, like Thackeray and his chil- 
dren, they weep over him and laugh with him 
and read him again and again. For myself, I 
can hardly tell why I like him, any more than 
I can tell why I like ‘ Bobinson Crusoe’ and 
‘ Arabian Nights ’ and ‘ Mother Goose and yet 


LAST DAYS 


159 


I would give up a large part of literature 
before I would give up tliose classics/’ 

“ I’ll tell you what I think, mamma. I think 
Miss Belden doesn’t always believe all she says. 
She just says it because she thinks it will sound 
well, and she can make anything in the world 
sound well by just the way she says it. She is 
the most brilliant talker I ever listened to, and 
the wittiest. Why, she just dazzles you all 
the time. She ought to set up a salon, like 
Madame de Stael or Madame Recamier. She is 
every bit as witty as Madame de Stael. I don’t 
see how it is possible for her to say so many bril- 
liant things to so many classes, and always some- 
thing new. I don’t see how she does it.” 

“ Because she draws from a well that grows 
fuller by drawing from it. One bright thought 
suggests another. If she saved them up for some 
grand occasion, her well would soon go dry; but 
the moment one occurs to her she gives it utter- 
ance, and it immediately becomes the progenitor 
of another.” 

“Yes; she said something like that herself 
about essay writing. She told us if we happened 
to have a good thought not to save it up for the 
end of the essay, for if we did we would be sure 


160 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


to feel cramped all tlie way through ; but put it 
right down and other good thoughts would fol- 
low in its wake.” 

“And I don’t see,” said Lois, emerging once 
more from the bedroom where she had disap- 
peared for a few minutes, “ why Miss Belden 
doesn’t write instead of teach. Then all her 
beautiful thoughts would be saved and the whole 
world could read them, and they wouldn’t have 
to be wasted on just a few of us girls.” 

“ What kind of writing could she do, do you 
think ?” 

“ Oh ! everything. Critical essays, of course, 
but stories, too. She tells a story better than 
any one I ever listened to, and she has such 
beautiful hands.” 

“ Why, what has that to do with story-tell- 
ing ?” 

“ Oh ! nothing. I was only thinking how 
pretty her hands looked while she was telling 
us a story this afternoon. They are small and 
white and exquisitely shaped, with the most 
beautiful curve at the wrist, and she has such a 
pretty way of using them. And that reminds 
me of another thing she said to-day. She said 
none of us liked to be told we were not any- 


LAST DAYS 


161 


thing, even though we made no pretensions to 
be it, and in fact knew we were not, or perhaps 
wouldn’t be for the world. We didn’t like even 
to be told we were not bad-tempered. We would 
rather be considered as possessed of a good deal 
of temper which we keep under perfect control. 
She didn’t like to be told she was not beautiful, 
though she had never made the slightest claim 
to beauty — and then I thought of her hands. 
But I can’t repeat things the way she says them. 
I wish you could hear her, mamma. She is per- 
fectly fascinating. Madame de Stael is no com- 
parison. I just wish she would have a salon.” 

“ How would you like to live in the house 
with her, Lois ?” 

“ Oh ! I would love it, of course. The girls 
in the Harvey say it is a perfect feast just to sit 
at the table and listen to her. And then every 
evening after supper, she reads to them and talks 
to them and tells stories, and they all adore 
her.” 

Lois answered carelessly. She was in the 
other room putting the finishing touches to her 
dress, and they were talking through the open 
doors. Mrs. Darcy thought this was her chance, 
and she seized it desperately. 

11 


162 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


“ Well, I have arranged for you to go there 
after Christmas, if you like, and I will go back 
to St. Mark’s.” 

Lois did not take it in at all. “ What did you 
say, mamma ?” She came to the sitting-room 
door as she spoke. 

“ I have arranged for you to go to the Harvey 
House after Christmas, if you like, and I will 
go back to St. Mark’s.” 

It was a bald statement, but Mrs. Darcy could 
not trust herself to one extra word. She did 
not lift her eyes as she spoke, but gazed steadily 
at her work. She felt that she could not meet 
that wide look of pained astonishment she was 
sure was in Lois’s eyes, or, if it should not be 
there, then that would be harder still. 

There was a moment of breathless pause, and 
then Lois rushed swiftly forward and threw her- 
self on her knees at her mother’s side. 

“ Why, mamma ! what can you mean ? You 
are not going away and leave me !” There was no 
mistaking the ring of pain in Lois’s voice, and 
her mother compelled herself to meet her eyes 
as her hand dropped lovingly on her curls. She 
had felt quite sure that Lois’s first emotion would 
be one of pain, and she would not have had it 


LAST DAYS 


163 


otherwise ; but she felt almost as sure that a cer- 
tain relief and joy would follow when she real- 
ized she was to have the coveted life on the 
campus and be in every respect like other col- 
lege girls. 

She had resolved that she would put it upon 
the ground of her own lonely, idle life in Nor- 
wood and her desire to return to St. Mark’s, so 
that Lois might not feel constrained to reject 
the plan from a generous consideration for her. 

So she said, very steadily : 

“ I have been thinking of it for a long time, 
darling. I think I am leading a very useless 
life here ; don’t you ? All the long day while 
you are away, I do nothing but read a little, or 
sew a little, or write a few letters ; and there is 
my work in St. Mark’s, all left undone. Not 
even my Sunday-school class supplied with a 
regular teacher yet. And my missionary work, 
and my poor, and my working-girls’ club ! I 
think, perhaps, it is not quite right for me to 
come away and leave it all, there is always so 
much more work than there are workers to do 
it ; and then I think, too, it will perhaps be bet- 
ter for you to have the full benefit of all college 
life can give you. And I will be so glad to 


164 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


have you associated with such a woman as Miss 
Belden ; that, in itself, will be a liberal educa- 
tion — and then Miss Baker is in the Harvey, 
and you will not feel at all lonely or homesick, 
and I shall feel very comfortable about you with 
her to look after you. I thought I would talk 
it over with you, dear ; it is not irrevocably 
fixed ; and if you thought it was the best thing 
to do, why, we might try it for the rest of the 
year. It will not be very long after the Christ- 
mas holidays until Easter. If we had both been 
here we would not take so long a trip for so short 
a time ; but as there will be only you, of course 
you will come home. And then after Easter, it 
will be only ten weeks until the summer vaca- 
tion ; and so I think we will manage to get 
through it, and it will give us a chance to see 
how it works. If it proves to be all right, I 
will come out here and find board somewhere 
near the college every fall, and go back to St. 
Mark’s at Christmas. And if it should prove 
to be all wrong, why, another year we can return 
to our first arrangement.” 

She had been talking on with little pauses, to 
give Lois a chance to say something, but Lois 
had not uttered a word. She had been almost 


LAST DAYS 


165 


dazed at first, and now she was slowly gathering 
from her mother’s words that what she had 
sometimes feared was true, after all. Her mother 
had been lonely, and had suffered while she was 
having such a good time, and oblivious to it all. 
Her first wild impulse, to cling to her mother and 
rebel at the thought of the separation, she was 
trying to subdue, and in the meantime she dared 
not trust herself to speak. She was saying to 
herself : “ I will be brave for dear mamma’s sake. 
All that horrid girl said was true. I have 
been selfish and thoughtless. Of course it must 
be a terribly dreary life for mamma away from 
St. Mark’s, where she is so useful and so loved. 
Other girls live without their mothers, and so of 
course I can.” And then a swift realizing sense 
of what life without her mother would be rushed 
over her and almost swept her from her stern 
resolve not to let that precious mother know 
what an agony it would be to give her up. 

So she said nothing, because she could not, 
but sat with her eyes fixed on her clasped hands, 
that her mother might not be able to read them, 
until her mother stopped and waited, and said 
finally : 

“ Well, Lois?” 


166 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Then she said, in a low, unsteady voice : 

“Have you really been so lonely and un- 
happy, mamma ? Oh ! how selfish, selfish I have 
been !” And with a great rush of tears and 
sobs she buried her face in her mother’s lap. 

But that was not at all the idea Mrs. Darcy 
had intended to convey, and she was shocked 
that in her desire to make it easy for Lois, she 
had so far overshot the mark. 

“ Oh ! no, no, Lois darling !” she exclaimed, as 
she lifted the weeping girl to her lap and held 
her close. 

“ You know I could never be unhappy where 
you are, nor lonely. I was only trying to decide 
what might be best for us both, and I thought 
we could experiment on the rest of this year : 
but if it is going to make you unhappy, there 
is not the least reason why we should not remain 
just as we are.” 

Lois lifted her head with one big, convulsive 
sob that she determined should be her last, and 
smiled through her tears. A rather forlorn 
little smile that came nearer undermining Mrs. 
Darcy’s hardly-maintained fortitude than even 
the tears that preceded it. 

But Lois was quite determined now. She 


LAST DAYS 


167 


would be brave and accept her mother’s plan, 
and no one should ever know what it cost her. 
So she kept on smiling perseveringly, while she 
said, in a voice that was a little tremulous in 
spite of herself, 

“ I think you are quite right, mamma. It 
certainly cannot be the best kind of a life for 
you, and I would be a great baby indeed if I 
could not stay away from you a few weeks at a 
time ; and anyway I think we had better try 
the experiment. But,” she added, “ how can 
I get into the Harvey in the middle of the 
year?” 

Then Mrs. Darcy explained about the va- 
cancy, and also how it seemed rather provi- 
dential, for the Hardings wanted to close their 
house and go south for the winter. 

“ Well, that settles it,” said Lois, who, like 
her mother, would have vehemently disdained 
any subjection to superstition, but who, never- 
theless, was strongly influenced by anything that 
looked like “ providential indications.” 

They sat for the hour that intervened till sup- 
per time, with no light but the firelight, Lois 
in a low chair by her mother’s side, and hand 
in hand they talked it all over. Mrs. Darcy 


168 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


told Lois of her plan that they should both go 
home to spend the holidays. It had not been 
their original intention on account of the dis- 
tance and the expense, but as Mrs. Darcy would, 
at any rate, he going immediately after, they 
might as well go together. It would be such a 
pleasure to Lois to sj)end Christmas in her old 
home among her old friends, and as Lois said, 
she could see her mother settled in her new home. 

Mrs. Darcy had written some time before to 
her old friends the Coltons, and had heard from 
them that if she wanted to return to St. Mark’s 
they would only be too glad to have her with 
them. So although she could not go back to 
her own little home, she was not to be at the 
mercy of a forlorn boarding-house. 

As they talked things began to look a little 
brighter to Lois. She had the most elastic and 
most optimistic of spirits always, and Mrs. Darcy, 
who felt the little hand trembling in hers, and 
heard the frequent quiver in the voice when 
they began to talk, was glad to notice the hand 
grow quieter and the voice firmer as they went 
on, until finally there was almost a ring of the 
old gay tone as she pictured the surprise of her 
St. Mark’s friends when she should walk in 


LAST DAYS 


169 


on them. And then Mrs. Darcy began to paint 
life at the Harvey for her, and told her about 
her pleasant room, a single one on the second 
floor and very near Miss Baker. 

Things began to look not quite so dreadful to 
Lois. Suddenly she asked : “ Did you know 

about this all the time we were in Boston, 
mamma ?” 

“ Yes, dear.” 

“ And was that the reason,” keenly, “ that 
you were so extravagant and determined to have 
a good time ?” 

“ That was the very reason, darling.” 

Lois was silent a full minute ; then she looked 
up with a long-drawn sigh, pressing the hand 
that she held to her cheek : 

“ Oh ! you are the loveliest mother !” 

It was only two weeks until the Christmas 
holidays, and there was much to be done — 
Christmas presents to be finished, packing all 
the dainty furnishings of their little home to be 
transferred to the Harvey House, besides their 
preparations for the journey to St. Mark’s. The 
days fairly flew, and before either of them 
could realize it, they had come to the last 
evening to be spent together in Norwood, 


170 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Everything had been carried down to the 
Harvey in the morning, and Lois and her 
mother had spent the day in arranging the 
little room, and Lois could not but confess it 
looked very dainty and pretty and even home- 
like. Miss Belden had expressed her pleasure 
at having Lois as a member of her family, and 
Miss Baker had gone into transports of delight 
at the prospect of having her “ little sister ” 
right under her wing. 

Now they were alone together in their old 
room, bare and desolate, with the curtains gone 
from the windows, pictures and hangings all 
down, no divan, tea table, bookcase, or pretty 
fixings of any kind. The piano, a rented one, 
still stood there and a couple of easy chairs 
belonging to the room left them a comfortable 
place to sit. Their faithful companion in joy 
and sorrow, the fire, was still left to them, and 
outside the snow was softly falling, veiling the 
windows and filling the room with a beautiful 
subdued light that quite took the place of mus- 
lin draperies. The snow was of the soft, cling- 
ing kind that piled high on every branch and 
twig, and hung the evergreens near their 
windows full of great white tassels. It was fast 


LAST DAYS 171 

transforming the bleak, hard earth into a place 
of soft, white beauty. 

Lois was restless. The influence of “last 
things ” was full upon her and she was finding 
it hard to keep back the fast-springing tears. 
As for Mrs. Darcy, there was a pain in her 
heart too deep and keen for any words, that 
left her pale and languid. Lois went to the 
piano and played and sang softly “Jerusalem 
the Golden.” It was a great favorite with both 
of them, and insensibly the inspiring words 
relieved the strain tugging at the heartstrings 
of each. When she had finished, she came 
and sat down beside her mother in the fast- 
gathering twilight, and they fell to talking 
softly and cheerfully of the happy times they 
had spent together in that dear rogm and in 
old Norwood. 

After supper there was still a little packing 
to do, last things to put into their trunks, for 
they were to leave early in the morning. But 
by eight o’clock everything was packed, and 
they were in their old places before the fire, 
Lois on a low stool at her mother’s feet, her 
head on her lap. Their talk was now of St. 
Mark’s and the friends they were soon to see, 


172 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


mingled with many little directions and admoni- 
tions to Lois as to her life away from her 
mother. Some of it only about the care of her 
room and her clothing, for so far Lois had been 
obliged to take but little thought about either ; 
and some of it about more essential matters. 
Loving guidance that Lois could refer to when 
questions of principle or conscience should arise. 
They had many things to say to each other. 
They seemed to realize that this was their real 
farewell ; there would be so much to do and so 
many to see in St. Mark’s, it would leave them but 
little time for each other. They had not heeded 
the flight of time, but when Mrs. Darcy noticed 
that it was long past ten o’clock, she said, “And 
now, Lois, the song I love so well before we go 
to bed.” And in her pure, beautiful voice, her 
mother’s pride, grown sweeter and stronger by 
the cultivation of the last three months, she 
sang : 

“For thee, 0 dear, dear Country, 

Mine eyes their vigils keep ; 

For very love beholding 

Thy happy name, they weep. 

The mention of thy glory 
Is unction to the breast, 

And medicine in sickness, 

And love and life and rest. 


LAST DAYS 


173 


“Oh ! sweet and blessed Country, 
The home of God’s elect, 

Oh ! sweet and blessed Country, 
That eager hearts expect ! 
Jesus in mercy bring us 
To that dear land of rest ; 
Who art, with God the Father 
And Spirit, ever blest.” 


The memory of that last evening together 
often came back to them both in sad hours that 
were awaiting them. Lois went to sleep tight 
clasped in her mother’s arms, but when her 
light, regular breathing indicated that she was 
really sleeping, her mother kissed her softly 
and put her away, and then, turning from her, 
yielded at last to the flood of bitter tears that 
had been so long pent up and so long gathering 
force there was no resisting longer their over- 
whelming tide. 


CHAPTER XII 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 

The Christmas holidays were over — lovely 
holidays, full of such good times at home with 
their old friends, yet haunted for both Lois and 
her mother by the shadowy spectre of the sepa- 
ration that was to come at their close. 

And now the separation had taken place. 
They had both borne up bravely, each deter- 
mined to do so for the sake of the other ; but 
Lois, rolling swiftly toward Norwood on the 
“ Limited/’ and her mother, alone in the pleas- 
ant room she called her own at Mrs. Colton’s, 
were both going through such a struggle as 
must leave its impress for all time on their 
hearts and lives. 

Lois felt herself in the grasp of an irre- 
sistible fate bearing her swiftly on, away from 
all that was dearest to her on earth. For the 
moment she would gladly have given up col- 
lege and all it meant for her in the future to 
be back with that dear mother in dear St. 
174 


LIFE ON. THE CAMPUS 


175 


Mark’s. And Mrs. Darcy, now that the great 
wrench had been made, was left so weak, phys- 
ically and morally, that she was ready to yield 
all her high resolves, the result of weeks of 
calm deliberation, and had wild thoughts of 
taking the next train and following Lois. 

There were two things that probably helped 
them both to live through that first awful strain. 
For Lois, it was the horror of letting others 
know the agony she was suffering, and there 
was quite a party of Gale girls on board the 
train before whom she made desperate efforts to 
keep up the semblance of cheerfulness. 

With Mrs. Darcy, it seemed even more im- 
perative that she should not darken, by the 
shadow of her own grief, the home that had 
been so kindly opened to receive her; and 
though the effort was almost a superhuman one, 
she did achieve calmness and almost cheerful- 
ness when next she met the family circle. 

It seemed odd to Lois not to be going 
up the familiar Elm Street, and it gave her 
another sickening sensation of heart-sinking 
to turn into the college grounds with a long 
line of other carriages. Every in-coming train 
brought its quota of returning girls, and the roll 


176 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


of carriages over the campus asphalt was un- 
ceasing. 

It would be strange, too, not to meet all the 
familiar girls at Mrs. Waters’s, to whom she 
had become much attached in the short three 
months of their association, and she wondered 
if she were going to be equal to the ordeal of 
that entrance into a strange house. 

But Miss Belden met her at the door and 
received her so kindly, and introduced her to 
the house-mother, who gave her so warm a 
welcome that she already began to feel a little 
lessening of the pain at her heart, when some- 
body came flying through the hall and clutched 
her delightedly, exclaiming : 

“ Why Lois, you dear little sister, when did 
you come ?” It was Miss Baker, of course, 
and she took Lois to her room and began to 
unfasten her cloak and take off her hat. 

But when Lois saw the familiar furnishings 
so closely associated with her life with her 
mother, in the dear little sitting-room on Elm 
Street, and felt the friendliness of Miss Baker’s 
ministrations, it was too much for her. Her 
long effort at self-control relaxed, and with a 
cry, “ O mamma, mamma !” she threw herself 


LIFE OH THE CAMPUS 


177 


into Miss Baker’s arms and gave way to uncon- 
trollable sobs and tears. She could have fallen 
into no better hands. The first violent paroxysm 
of her grief over, Miss Baker drew her down 
beside her on the divan, and with her arm 
around her, and Lois’s head on her shoulder, 
talked to her so sweetly and soothingly that 
soon Lois was weeping quietly and feeling some- 
how not quite so wretched, now that tears had 
relieved the overcharged heart. 

Lois was not a girl to indulge in the luxury 
of woe, and as soon as she could, she controlled 
even the silent weeping. 

“ Oh! what would I have done if you had not 
been here, Miss Baker ?” she said, tremulously, 
from behind the screen, where she was trying 
to bathe away the traces of her tears. 

“ I think my heart would have broken if I 
had been all alone when I came in and saw all 
these reminders of dear mamma.” 

“ I am so glad I was here, little sister. But 
you must not call me Miss Baker, you must 
call me Margaret ; now that we are going to be 
in the same house, and your room is so near 
mine that I foresee I shall be in here so much 
as to become an awful nuisance.” 

12 


178 


HER COLLEGE HAYS 


Miss Baker had determined that for the pres- 
ent, at least, she should see that Lois was left to 
herself as little as possible, and so prej>ared her 
for the friendly surveillance. But Lois had a 
quiet strength of character that her friends did 
not always give her credit for, she seemed so 
young and gentle. Her mother recognized it 
and had counted on it to sustain her in times 
of home-sickness or mother-sickness. The one 
outburst of feeling and the free course to her 
tears had done her good, and now she was de- 
termined on no backward glances. Her life 
should be in the present duty, looking forward 
to the swiftly-gliding weeks to restore her to 
her mother. 

Miss Baker had fears for her health when she 
witnessed that first overwhelming paroxysm of 
grief, and even thought of writing to Mrs. Darcy 
that she did not believe Lois would be able to 
bear the separation. But when she saw her tak- 
ing up her daily duties cheerfully, and soon with 
unfeigned interest in her new life, she dismissed 
all foreboding and concluded that Lois was like 
other girls ; if her feelings were intense they were 
as volatile also. In fact, Lois lost just a little 
ground with this friend, because she had not 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 179 

continued to mourn longer or certified her con- 
stancy by going into a morbid state. She did 
Lois a little injustice, however. There was 
nothing volatile or inconstant in her nature. 
She was intense, but there was much of good 
sense in her composition, and she was deter- 
mined to make the best of the inevitable. 

It was true also that she was gifted with a 
large portion of the elasticity of youth, and a 
sunny nature that turned as naturally to the 
bright side of life as the flower to the sun, 
added to a rare reticence that could not reveal 
even to her dearest friend, the longing and 
grief that came near overwhelming her at times. 

So she entered heartily into the life of the 
campus, and it was not long before there was 
no more popular girl in the Harvey than Lois, 
in demand at all the teas and spreads and vari- 
ous impromptu entertainments, until Miss 
Baker began to feel a little jealous that she saw 
so little of her “ little sister.” 

Lois was true to her first love, however, and 
if other girls and society events claimed her 
time so that she saw little of Margaret, as she 
called her now, she yet held her place in her 
affections unapproaclied, and she managed to 


180 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


slip into her room every night for a little talk, 
even if sometimes it had to be after lights were 
out. 

She had been so fortunate as to have a seat 
assigned to her at Miss Belden’s table, and her 
keen enjoyment in her brilliant table-talk had 
not passed unnoticed by Miss Belden, who often 
invited her to her room, where she revelled in 
books and pictures, and the charm of friendly 
intercourse with the gifted woman. 

She saw a good deal too of the old girls from 
Mrs. Waters’s. Isabel rushed into her room 
the day after her arrival, exclaiming in her 
usual italics : 

“ Oh ! you dear, darling Lois ! We do miss 
you and your mother so much ; it is too lonely 
at our house. How is Mrs. Darcy, and why 
did she go back to St. Mark’s? I just thought 
you and your mother could never live apart.” 

That was touching on a sore point with Lois. 
She had not been able to overcome a little hurt 
feeling that St. Mark’s should have proved more 
of a necessity for her mother than she. It 
seemed so unlike her mother, that she should 
be more unhappy separated from her home and 
associations than from the child in whom her 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 


181 


whole life had seemed to be merged. But she 
never dwelt on that point ; she never even con- 
sciously recognized it to herself, so she answered 
loyally and sincerely : 

“ Mamma would do anything that she thought 
best for me, and she thought it was best for me 
to have some experience in independent college 
life.^ 

“ Oh ! of course ; but we miss you so much,” 
said Isabel, “and I have no one to study Greek 
with, and no more little lunches or Sunday 
evening sings in your room.” 

“ Oh ! don’t, Isabel ; don’t recall any of those 
dear old times ! Wait until I am a little used 
to it.” And Isabel, seeing the tears fast gather- 
ing, mentally scolded herself for a horrid old 
blunderer, and hastened to retrieve her mistake 
by begging Lois to come out for a walk. 

It was a crisp January day, and they walked 
away out to the Camelot Biver bridge, and stood 
there looking down the frozen river to bleak 
Mt. Hoaryhead, when a party of Houghton 
students came by in a trap, and one of them 
bowed in a quick, surprised way, and after the 
trap had passed, stopped it and got out and 
came back to speak to them. It was Mr. Hamil- 


182 


HER COLLEGE HAYS 


ton, and he was delighted to see Lois and showed 
it plainly. He knew her mother was not to 
come hack with her, and that she was to he at 
the Harvey. Poor Lois ! it was another trial to 
her still unsteady nerves to have him inquire for 
her mother so kindly and express such sincere 
regret that she had not returned. He was quick 
to see the almost imperceptible quiver of the 
sensitive chin and the sudden droop of the eye- 
lids, and drawing off the fur glove he had just 
put on, he grasped her hand with a quick, warm 
pressure, as he said, hastily : 

“ Good-bye. I must not keep the hoys wait- 
ing. May I come to vespers on Sunday ?” 

Lois could only nod her assent ; she did not 
dare even lift her eyes ; his quick sympathy had 
nearly completed her discomfiture, and to cover 
her confusion he said gayly to Isabel as he lifted 
his hat to them both : 

“And may I bring a friend of yours with me, 
Miss Arden ?” 

“ I shall be very happy,” said Isabel, “ only 
please remember, I am not at the Harvey.” 

And then to give Lois time to fully recover, 
she said, as he walked off, 

“ Isn’t he nice ? I’ll never forget as long as I 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 


183 


live that run lie made and how grand he looked, 
darting in and out among all those men trying 
to down him.” 

“ Is he nicer than Mr. Beacher ?” said Lois 
with an attempt at playfulness, and to show 
Isabel she was all right again. 

“ I believe he is, a little,” said Isabel, slowly 
and reflectively. “ Mr. Beacher does not play 
foot-ball, you know, but,” enthusiastically, “ he 
does sing divinely.” 

After that Lois saw a good deal of Mr. Hamil- 
ton. He came to vespers the following Sunday 
and on many Sundays, and sometimes appeared 
at the Harvey on the half-holidays between. 

Lois began to remember something her mother 
had said to her on that last night they were to- 
gether in Norwood. 

“ You have always been a little girl, Lois, but 
now people will begin to consider you a young lady 
because you are in college, and it may be possible 
you will receive attentions from young men. It 
is always nice to have pleasant friends, but you 
must be careful not to let the friendship grow too 
devoted. If you see it is verging that way, you 
must use a little womanly tact to prevent it.” 

She had Mr. Hamilton distinctly in mind, for 


184 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


she had noticed his evident liking for Lois, 
and although Mrs. Darcy admired and liked 
him very much, she felt Lois was entirely too 
young to be getting interested in any one. Lois 
probably did not think of him then, but she re- 
membered her mother’s words now, and felt a 
little troubled, wondering whether her mother 
would think him “ too attentive.” She liked 
him very much, and she would be very sorry to 
have his visits discontinued. Twice lately he 
had been over in the afternoon, and they had 
spent an hour or two skating on Paradise Lake, 
and Lois thought it the finest sport she had ever 
had in her life. 

That was one of Lois’s new experiences — 
learning to skate. There had never been ice 
enough in St. Mark’s for her to learn, but there 
was plenty of it here. Lois had made a begin- 
ning before Christmas, but it was the merest 
beginning. They returned from the holidays 
to find the ice in splendid condition, and her 
friends, especially Isabel and Miss Baker, who 
were very anxious to have her learn, took her 
out for a little while almost every day. But she 
made slow progress. 

“ It is always so in learning to skate/’ Miss 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 


185 


Baker assured her, “ you go on struggling for a 
long time and seemingly making no advance- 
ment, when suddenly it comes to you, and you 
know how to skate.” 

It had not “ come ” to Lois yet, when one 
Wednesday afternoon Mr. Hamilton called with 
his skates on his arm. 

“ I have come to see if you would not like to 
go down to Paradise for a little skate,” was his 
greeting as she entered the room. 

“ But I don’t know how to skate,” objected Lois. 

“ Then I will teach you. You have skates?” 

“ Yes,” reluctantly, for Lois did not quite like 
to exhibit her awkwardness and ignorance of the 
beautiful accomplishment to Mr. Hamilton. But 
she was persuaded, and a new sensation was 
added to her life, a new sense, she almost 
thought, as she felt herself flying over the ice. 

The girls who had been trying to teach her 
could only show her or feebly attempt to hold 
her up while she made awkward little strokes. 
Mr. Hamilton cut a strong, smooth stick from a 
tree by the lake, and giving one end to Lois and 
telling her to do nothing but keep her ankles 
firm, he took her flying over the ice. She began 
to discern some of the pleasures of skating. 


186 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Afterward, with her hands crossed and resting 
in his so that she would have a firm support, he 
showed her how to strike out, and after a few 
awkward first efforts, she found that by leaning 
slightly forward and resting a little on that firm 
support, her feet seemed to lose that irresistible 
tendency to fly from under her at all angles ; 
she could control their movements, and suddenly 
Lois found herself skating, really skating. It 
had “ come ” to her at last, and it seemed to come 
with a rush. In a few moments she was gliding 
from side to side in long, sweeping curves, still 
resting on Mr. Hamilton’s hands for support, 
but more and more lightly as she rapidly ac- 
quired skill, and feeling like. a bird on the wing, 
in the rapid rush through the keen air and swift 
gliding over the smooth ice. 

There were many of Lois’s friends on the ice, 
among them Miss Baker, to whom she intro- 
duced Mr. Hamilton, and hand in hand, with 
Lois between them, they sailed up and down the 
glassy lake until Lois, tired, or pretending to be, 
sat down on a log to rest, and sent Mr. Hamil- 
ton and Margaret on a swift skate up the river. 

They came back in a little while, and, taking 
Lois again, skated up to the landing, where Mr. 


LIFE ON THE CAMPUS 


187 


Hamilton took off their skates, and Lois found 
she could barely stand on her feet, much less 
walk, and had to hobble most of the way home, 
with Mr. Hamilton and Margaret on either side 
to assist her. But that was a part of the frolic, 
and Lois, who really suffered for a while, made 
more of a frolic out of it because Mr. Hamilton 
looked so grave, fearing he had strapped her 
skates too tightly (which he had no doubt done), 
and perhaps injured her feet. The return of 
circulation was painful, but it was all right by 
the time they had reached the Harvey, and Mr. 
Hamilton plucked up courage to ask if he might 
come again Saturday afternoon; the ice might not 
last, and he thought Miss Darcy ought to make 
the most of it, so as not to lose what she had 
already learned. 

Lois said “ yes ” a little doubtfully. It had 
been glorious sport, and she longed for more of 
it, but it was then she began to wonder if that 
was not being “ too attentive/’ and how she was 
to manage to have it any different. She would 
write her mother all about it and get her advice, 
and with that she dismissed the subject, and was 
quite ready to enjoy looking forward to Saturday 
with a good conscience. 


CHAPTEE XIII 


A STERN NECESSITY 

The ice was softening on top, the girls said 
at the dinner table on Saturday ; perfectly safe, 
but not very good skating. Lois was very 
much afraid she was not to have her skate after 
all. She had entirely forgotten her scruples, 
and was only anxious lest Mr. Hamilton should 
conclude it was too warm for skating and not 
come. 

But he came, of course, and when Lois told 
him the condition of the ice, proposed that they 
should go down and investigate. They found it 
certainly very soft on the top on the side of the 
lake nearest the college, but the attendant assured 
them it was only a top thaw, perfectly safe, and 
better skating on the other side. Still Mr. 
Hamilton thought it better to investigate for 
himself before risking Lois on it, and putting 
on his skates, he skated swiftly across and back 
again. 

“ It’s very good on the other side, Miss 
188 


A STERN NECESSITY 


189 


Darcy. Don’t try to skate here ; just let me 
pull you over.” 

There were very few on the ice, and they 
had the lake almost to themselves — a few small 
boys, of course, and a very few college girls — 
none of Lois’s friends, and not enough altogether 
to obstruct the skating in the least. 

Lois thought the ice better than on Wednes- 
day. It was just soft enough to cut in a little 
and give her skates a firm hold, which is some- 
times an advantage to a beginner still a little 
uncertain on her ankles. She had a splendid 
lesson and was rapidly learning how to skate 
alone, almost too rapidly, Mr. Hamilton thought. 
There were so few spectators, and none very 
near, she was not afraid of ridicule, and so ven- 
tured more and more until she could manage 
quite alone the long, graceful strokes she had 
already found easy with Mr. Hamilton’s sup- 
porting hand. 

Then he proposed they should go up the 
river, and the motion was so exhilarating and so 
delightful that they went further than they in- 
tended, and when they turned to come back and 
Mr. Hamilton consulted his watch, they found 
it was half-past five, and with all possible haste 


190 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois would be hardly able to get back in 
time for supper. The moon, well past its first 
quarter, had made it so light they had not 
recognized it was late. 

They found the lake entirely deserted ; even 
the small boy had gone home to supper, and, 
what was much worse, the ice on the college 
side was all under water. The softening pro- 
cess had gone on rapidly during the afternoon 
under the combined influence of the sun’s rays 
and the skating, and now they had a sheet of 
water to be crossed before they could reach 
land, unless they should skate clear back to 
the river, land there, and have a long walk 
home. That would make them very late, 
and besides Mr. Hamilton thought Miss 
Darcy had had exercise enough for one after- 
noon. 

He thought rapidly, and begging Lois to re- 
main where she was a moment, he glided off 
toward the shore, while Lois held her breath, 
for it looked exactly as if he was skating right 
into the lake. But he was back in a moment. 
The water had come up over the top of his 
skates and over his shoes, but the ice beneath 
was quite firm. 


A STERN NECESSITY 


191 


“ There is only one way, Miss Darcy, and I 
hope you will forgive the necessity.” 

He did not wait for the objection she was sure 
to make, but stooped and lifted her in his arms 
as if she had been a child. Startled out of 
all perception of the necessity of the act, Lois 
cried indignantly, struggling to free herself : 

“ Put me down this moment, Mr. Hamilton ; 
how dare you !” 

He did not put her down, but looked up in 
her indignant, flushed face seriously. 

“It is really the only way, Miss Darcy. I’m 
sorry, but if you will let me try it, I will have 
you down on the other side in a moment.” 

Perhaps he did not mind the delay her re- 
monstrance occasioned. At least Lois realized 
that she was only prolonging her embarrass- 
ment, and she replied, not quite so graciously as 
she might, 

“ Very well ; be quick, please.” 

In the few minutes that it required to clear 
the water, set her down gently on land, and re- 
move her skates and his own, Lois had time 
to reflect that it was very silly of her to “ make 
a fuss ;” it really was the only thing to do. So 
she tried to thank Mr. Hamilton very cordially, 


192 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and expressed great concern for his wet feet, at 
which he only laughed. 

But her manner all the way up to the house 
was either shy or offended, Mr. Hamilton could 
not quite decide which ; but his bright, laughing 
companion of the afternoon was gone. 

Just before they reached the Harvey, he 
stopped. 

“ Miss Darcy,” he said, “ if I have offended 
you I hope you will forgive me ; it really seemed 
the only way to me.” 

“ Oh ! no,” said Lois, quickly, “ I am not at all 
offended. Of course, it was the only way. It 
was very kind of you and I thank you very 
much. It was very silly of me to object, but I 
was so taken by surprise.” 

“ Now,” thought Lois, “ he will not think I 
attach any importance to it one way or the other, 
and I hope I have effaced the impression I must 
have made by my fussing.” 

She gave him her hand at parting, and hoped 
he would not take cold from his wet feet ; but he 
went away with the feeling that they were not 
on quite such pleasant terms as they had been 
an hour ago down the river. 

“ I wonder if mamma would think I managed 


A STERN NECESSITY 


193 


that with womanly tact,” thought Lois ; and 
somewhow she was not quite sure that she would. 

She came in to supper late, with such mag- 
nificent color that the girls could not refrain 
from commenting on it. The skating easily ac- 
counted for it to them, but Lois thought it did 
not entirely account for the hot feeling that 
rushed over her whenever she recalled Mr. 
Hamilton’s temerity and her own “ absurdity,” 
as she called it. 

If Lois was offended with Mr. Hamilton, she 
had ample time to recover from it before she 
saw him again. He did not appear at vespers, 
and there was no more skating. The ice 
continued to thaw, and a warm rain setting in 
left the lake as clear as on a summer day. 
The rain ended up in a heavy snow that made 
fine sleighing. Lois had never had a sleigh- 
ride, and now she was hoping there might come 
some chance of trying this other delightful 
recreation of a Northern winter. In the mean- 
time she was very busy, and though her mother 
seemed to her never out of her thoughts, and 
she had some sad and lonely hours, there was 
really very little time for her to stop and think 
whether she was unhappy or not. Her mother’s 
13 


194 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


long, sweet letters came regularly twice a week, 
and hers went just as regularly to her mother, 
full of everything she thought could possibly 
interest her in her campus life. 

There was never any sadness in her mother’s 
letters. They were full of what she was doing, 
accounts of Lois’s friends, happy looking for- 
ward to their meeting, and loving advice for 
Lois. 

Lois always felt like having “ a little weep ” 
when she read them, hut that was not because 
they were sad. It was partly, Lois believed, 
because they were not sad ; because her mother 
was so happy without her ; but principally be- 
cause they made her long so to see her mother. 

The Harvey was in great excitement over the 
play to be given in the gymnasium. It was an 
event that could only come once in three years 
to each house, for only one play at a time was 
permitted in “ the Gym,” and the nine houses 
had to take their turns. 

The parts had been assigned for the play, and 
rehearsals had been going on some time before 
Christmas ; so, of course, Lois did not expect to 
have any part in it, even if being only a Fresh- 
man had not rather disqualified her. 


A STERN NECESSITY 


195 


But Miss Wilkins, the “ leading lady,” was 
taken ill daring the Christmas holidays, and 
was not able to return at the opening of school. 
They waited for her a little while, and then re- 
ceived word from her mother that she would not 
be able to return before the spring term — possi- 
bly not then. 

There was great consternation in the dramatic 
club and the manager was in despair. All her 
best talent had been assigned, and they seemed 
to have the parts best suited to them. She did 
not know where to look for a “ Miss Hardcastle.” 
To borrow one from another house, as some one 
suggested, was to confess the Harvey inadequate 
in resources. It was not to be thought of for a 
moment. 

It was at this juncture that Miss Baker, who 
was to play the part of “young Mr. Harlow,” 
suggested Lois as “ Miss Hardcastle.” She had 
seen her play the part of “ Mrs. Somers,” in 
Howells’s “ Mouse-Trap,” which the girls at 
Miss Waters’s had given in the fall, and she 
told the manager what a success she had made 
of it. 

The stage manager knew Miss Darcy only 
slightly, and felt very dubious, but if she was 


196 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


willing to try the part on approval, and would 
not feel hurt if, after a trial, the manager did 
not consider her adapted to it, she would like to 
try her, and ajDpointed the next evening for a 
rehearsal of the first act. 

Lois hardly knew whether to attempt it or 
not. She dearly loved “ dramatics,” and noth- 
ing would delight her more than to be able to 
take a part in the play ; but to take a leading 
role, new and almost unknown in the Harvey, 
or to attempt to take it and fail, seemed too 
frightful. 

But Margaret persuaded her, and she set to 
work to commit her lines for the next evening. 

The stage manager was delighted with the 
result. Here was as good a “ Miss Hardcastle ” 
as she had lost, perhaps better, and Lois was 
written down for the part. When Isabel heard 
of it, her astonishment knew no bounds. 

“ Why, Lois Darcy ! I never saw a girl like 
you. Such luck ! Do you suppose anybody 
would ever go and get sick to let me have a 
part in a play ? Never ; and the leading part, 
too. But that’s just the way it will be with 
you all through college. Everything will play 
right into your hands. I’d be willing to ven- 


A STERN NECESSITY 


197 


ture almost anything that you will play on the 
basket-ball match, after all.” 

Lois and Isabel had neither of them been 
chosen on the team, and it had been a great 
disappointment to them both ; but Lois was 
one of the substitutes, or second team, and of 
course, there was a possibility that she might 
play. It was beginning to be a generally re- 
ceived opinion among Lois’s friends, that there 
was nothing she could not do, and do it a little 
better than any one else ; and, as Isabel said, 
the opportunities came to Lois when they never 
would to others. Whoever before heard of any 
one being invited to join the Glee Club, and a 
Freshman at that ; and to cap it all, everybody 
said she was a “ prod ” in her studies ; it was 
really too much for one girl ! 

“ And the worst of it all is, it doesn’t spoil 
you a bit, Lois. Now, if you were only vain 
and proud and stuck up, I could be envious of 
you with a good conscience ; but as it is, I am 
denied even that small comfort.” 

“ Well, keep on, Isabel, and I shall soon be 
as vain and proud as you wish ; or is this all 
bitter irony ?” 

And then Isabel said, “ Oh ! do let me help 


198 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


you with your costumes. That will he the next 
best thing to being in it myself.” 

And for the next two weeks they both spent 
every spare moment devising two dainty cos- 
tumes to be worn on the great occasion — which 
goes to prove that Isabel was as thoroughly un- 
selfish, and as far from envious as possible. 

The night of the play arrived. Like all 
college functions, it began promptly at seven 
o’clock ; for the girls knew that if they should 
be in the most thrilling part of the fifth act 
when ten o’clock came, lights would be turned 
out. 

The audience was brilliant in the extreme. 
No men, of course, but every invited guest , in 
the prettiest and brightest costume her ward- 
robe afforded. 

The running gallery was divided off into 
boxes by pretty screens, and there the most 
elaborate dressing was displayed. Instead of 
chairs in the boxes, there were piles of sofa 
cushions, and gracefully reclining on these were 
fair forms gorgeously arrayed; and it might 
well be mistaken for a scene from some Oriental 
court where no men might profane the presence. 

The curtain went up and displayed a very 



>> 


“DO LET ME HELP YOU WITH YOUR COSTUMES 

(See page 198) 



A STEEN NECESSITY 


199 


pretty and quaint stage-setting not at all ama- 
teurish ; and indeed they had such a competent 
stage manager that there was very little that 
was amateurish in the whole play. 

“ Mrs. Hardcastle ” was as delightfully absurd 
as Mrs. Green herself could have been, when 
she played it for the first time before our Lon- 
don ancestors in the Theatre Royal, Covent 
Garden. “ Mr. Hardcastle ” was by turns the 
genial host and the irate and outraged old Eng- 
lish gentleman. “ Tony Lumpkins ” was inimit- 
able. Indeed, it was a revelation to some of 
the spectators to know they had such dramatic 
genius in their midst as “ Tony ” displayed. The 
by-play between him and “ Miss Neville ” was 
beyond criticism. 

“ Mr. Marlow ” and “ Mr. Hastings” were not 
only well up in their lines, but they were re- 
splendent in wigs and costumes imported from 
Somerfield — particularly in the last scene, where 
one in blue satin and silver, and the other in pink 
and gold, were gorgeous to the last degree. “ Sir 
Charles ” and all the minor parts were exceed- 
ingly well taken, and the quickness with which 
the scenes were set and the costumes changed, 
won golden opinions for the management. 


200 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


But after all, the triumph of the evening was 
Lois. The Harvey girls had managed to keep 
a profound secret what play was to be given, 
and very few of Lois’s friends even knew that 
she was to take part. They were out in force 
because she had invited them, and invitations 
were most eagerly sought ; and the program was 
the first intimation most of them had received 
that she was to be “ Miss Hardcastle.” 

When she appeared in the first scene, in the 
quaintly elaborate costume that she and Isabel 
had devised, and that old “ Mr. Hardcastle ” calls 
“ Frenchy,” she was greeted with quite a storm 
of applause, won by the pretty picture she made 
in her short-waisted, narrow-skirted pink bro- 
cade dress, with elbow sleeves, long silk mitts, 
and pink shoes, pointed, high-heeled, and 
buckled, and her dress quite short enough to 
display them. The dress was cut low in the 
neck, and a rich black lace scarf was draped 
over her shoulders, and on her head was a 
wonder of a bonnet. That bonnet was certainly 
a work of genius. Lois’s large leghorn flat had 
been used as a foundation. A tiny crown of 
buckram, covered with black velvet, such as our 
great-great-grandmothers wore, was built on at 


A STERN NECESSITY 


201 


the back, over which curled and nodded a bunch 
of ostrich plumes, after the fashion of those same 
grand dames. It was brought down at the sides 
and tied under the chin with pink ribbons, and 
a broad black velvet facing, and a wide pink 
bow nestling on the powdered locks, made it 
irresistibly becoming to the dark eyes and pink 
cheeks framed within, as she tripped on the 
stage on her high heels, a little pink reticule 
dangling from her arm, and with all the airs 
and graces of an eighteenth century belle. 

In the second scene she appeared in the 
housewife’s dress, that “ Miss Hardcastle ” wears 
in the evenings to please her father, on condition 
that she be permitted to dress as a lady of fash- 
ion in the mornings ; and it was hard to tell 
whether the lady of fashion or the little house- 
wife was most charming. A short quilted petti- 
coat of scarlet satin, with corsage and panniers 
of flowered chintz, a tiny white apron and 
muslin cap, scarlet shoes and hose, and a big 
bunch of keys at her belt, completed the cos- 
tume. Another round of applause greeted her 
second appearance, and put Lois on her mettle 
to deserve it for something more than her cos- 
tumes ; and a sweeter, more natural “ Kate 


202 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Hardcastle,” full of arch coquetry and bewitch- 
ing wiles, would be hard to find. 

The curtain rang down for the last time, 
amid the enthusiastic clapping of hands, which 
was so prolonged that it was necessary to ring up 
again, revealing a pretty tableau — “ Kate Hard- 
castle ” in her quaint scarlet and white costume, 
in the act of giving her hand to “ Mr. Harlow,” 
resplendent in blue satin and silver and lace, 
while all the others stood grouped about them 
in quaint or gorgeous costumes, according to 
their parts in the play. 

And then came that always-dreaded announce- 
ment, “ Lights will be out in five minutes,” and 
as at the touch of a magician’s wand, the bril- 
liant audience and the brilliant stage alike 
vanished, the gymnasium was left cold and 
dark, and the great Harvey play, long talked 
of beforehand, and long to be remembered after- 
ward, was over. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A CONCEKT AT HOUGHTON 

With rehearsing for the play and glee club 
practice growing more frequent as they were be- 
ginning to work in earnest for the grand spring 
concert, and with every moment she could spare 
from study and practice and rehearsing and 
costuming put in on basket-ball (for if the 
Freshmen had any hope of beating the Sopho- 
mores in the grand game at the close of the 
term they would have to work for it, as the 
Sophomores had the advantage of a whole 
year’s play), with everything in college rushing, 
Lois had little time to miss Mr. Hamilton. 
And yet she did miss him a little, and won- 
dered if she had driven him away by seeming 
offended. If so, she was very sorry. Some- 
times she thought it was possible he had taken 
cold from getting his feet wet on Paradise that 
day ; and if so she was still more sorry, and 
wished she could find out. But if there was 
no reason at all for his long absence, but mere 

203 


204 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


indifference, then she was ready to be quite as 
indifferent as he, and didn’t care if he never 
came — which looks as if she did care a little. 

It was four weeks since she had seen him. 
The sleighing was at its height, but Lois had 
not yet had a ride, when one morning she re- 
ceived a letter post-marked Houghton. She did 
not know the writing, but she could readily 
guess whom it might be from, and she tore it 
open precipitately. It was from Mr. Hamilton, 
as she had supposed, and he told her that he 
had been very anxious to invite her to attend a 
concert given at Houghton that week, but he 
had not quite known how to manage it. If her 
mother had been there to chaperone her, there 
would have been no difficulty, of course. He 
thought he had arranged it, however, if he had 
her permission to do so, and if she would co- 
operate with him to secure the required Regis- 
trar’s permission and the chaperone. Mr. 
Beadier and Mr. Markham would like to invite 
her two friends, Miss Arden and Miss Baker, 
and if she would invite one or two teachers (he 
thought two would be pleasanter and just fill 
the sleigh), everything could be very satisfac- 
torily arranged. 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 


205 


Lois was wildly excited. If she had been 
cherishing any hard feeling toward Mr. 
Hamilton it vanished on the spot; in fact, she 
did not even remember that it had ever existed. 
The idea of a sleighing party made up of her best 
friends, and to Houghton, was better than she 
had dreamed of. She ran at once to Margaret’s 
room to communicate the glad intelligence, and 
Margaret was almost as delighted as Lois. She 
liked Mr. Markham, and although sleighing was 
no novelty to her, it was always a grand pleasure, 
and to attend a concert in Houghton was the 
height of felicity to a Gale college girl. 

“ But whom will you invite for chaperone ?” 
Margaret asked, when they had discussed all 
the delightful details, including the dresses they 
should wear. 

“ Why, Miss Belden, of course,” answered 
Lois, promptly. 

“ I don’t believe she will go. She doesn’t 
like chaperoning and she doesn’t like sleigh- 
riding, and she doesn’t believe in Gale girls 
going to Houghton.” 

“ O dear ! that’s too bad ! But I shall ask 
her anyway, and I shall invite her ( crush,’ too, 
and then perhaps she’ll go.” 


206 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“ Why, Lois Darcy ! I am shocked to hear 
you talk of Miss Belden’s ‘ crush ’ ; such rever- 
ence as you pretend for Miss Belden, too.” 

“ I don’t pretend. You know, Margaret, I 
think she is simply magnificent. It was horrid 
to call Miss King her ‘ crush/ and I never will 
again; hut you Harvey girls have demoralized 
me,” and with a saucy moue and without giving 
Margaret a chance to disclaim any part in such 
irreverence, she was off to catch Miss Belden 
before she should have left her room for chapel. 

Much to Margaret’s astonishment, Lois re- 
ported success when she met her at dinner. 
Miss Belden had accepted cordially and even 
before she knew Miss King was to be invited 
also. “ I don’t know anybody else but Miss 
King she would have done it for. It is evident 
you are one of her pets,” said Margaret. 

“ Miss Belden doesn’t have pets,” responded 
Lois, with dignity, and Margaret subsided with 
a mild “ oh !” 

Lois had also seen Isabel and the Registrar. 
Isabel was delighted, of course, and there was 
no trouble in getting permission from the . Re- 
gistrar when she found Miss Belden was to be 
the chaperone. 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 207 

“ So I shall write to Mr. Hamilton this after- 
noon and tell him we can go. Oh ! isn’t it too 
good?” 

The play was to be on Wednesday night and 
the Houghton concert two nights after — -just time, 
Lois thought, to get well rested after the play. 

And now the play was over. 

Happily excited with the delightful triumph 
of the evening, Lois went to sleep with her head 
filled with visions of past glories and coming 
pleasures, for the sleigh-ride on Friday night 
disputed with the play for possession of her 
happy thoughts. 

If it is a rule that realization never equals 
anticipation, it is proved by the exception. 
Eagerly as Lois had looked forward to the 
sleigh-ride, she had not pictured anything quite 
so delightful as it seemed to her when she found 
herself seated beside Mr. Hamilton, who was to 
do the driving, so muffled in warm wraps and 
tucked in with fur robes she could not move — 
the horses pawing and prancing and ringing 
their merry bells, impatient to be off, Isabel and 
Margaret, her two best friends, in the sleigh 
behind her with two such nice Houghton men, 
and her dear Miss Belden sitting beside Miss 


208 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


King and proving herself the loveliest and 
j oiliest of chaperones. 

But when they were off, that was nicer still. 
Everybody was in such high spirits, they all 
talked together, and greeted with impartial 
laughter the poorest pun and the keenest wit. 

Lois thought she had never breathed such 
keen, crisp, frosty air, nor known anything so 
exhilarating as their swift gliding over the 
smooth white road. Her enjoyment was so deep 
and thorough it had rather the effect of keeping 
her quiet, though she listened to the merry talk 
going on behind her, occasionally joining in a 
little. She did not at first notice that Mr. 
Hamilton was very quiet, too. When she did, 
and wondered at it a little, she thought that, like 
her, he was probably enjoying what was going on 
behind them. Or perhaps his horses required 
all his attention. They were spirited creatures 
and Lois had felt very glad that Mr. Hamilton 
was to do the driving. He was the kind of man 
you always felt confidence in, there was such an 
air of quiet strength about him. So she did not 
for a while concern herself very much about his 
silence, but afterward, when she began to feel 
that she ought to exert herself to be a little 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 


209 


more entertaining, and made some tentative 
efforts in that direction, she found him difficult. 
He was everything that mere politeness required, 
listened to all she said with grave attention, and 
answered, if briefly, yet always to the point ; 
but there was no spontaneity. And ever since 
the foot-ball game there had been so much 
frankness and friendliness in their intercourse 
that Lois was sorely puzzled to understand him. 
After a while it irritated her that she should 
seem to be making overtures which were so 
coldly received, and she ceased trying to talk to 
him, and interested herself pointedly in her 
friends in the rear. Yet distrait as Mr. Hamil- 
ton appeared, he never seemed to forget Lois’s 
comfort for a moment. If in turning to talk to 
those behind her she loosened her fur robes a 
little, he was quick to observe it and tuck them 
in again, and there were two questions that were 
of such frequent and regular recurrence they 
began to be annoying. “Are you cold, Miss 
Darcy? Not the least bit?” Or, “Are you 
sure you are quite comfortable ?” 

What the girls thought a most delightful part 
of the arrangements was that they were to go to 
the Houghton hotel for supper before the con- 
14 


210 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


cert. They had left Norwood at half-past four, 
and it was just an hour later when they drew 
up in front of the hotel. The gentlemen sprang 
out and began to assist the ladies to disentangle 
themselves from the robes and alight, and some 
one coming up to hold the horses, Mr. Hamilton 
sprang out too, and with a stately courtesy that 
was natural to him as a Georgian and comported 
well with his inches, he carefully excavated 
Lois from her nest of robes and lifted her from 
the sleigh. 

A merry party gathered in the hotel parlor, 
where they divested themselves of several layers 
of outside coverings, and waited for a summons 
to supper, ready to do full justice to the good 
things mine host had provided for them. 

Oysters and coffee and a very good salad 
proved to be the pieces de resistance in their 
menu, and proved also to be exactly what the 
Gale girls, including Miss Belden, especially 
liked, which was very satisfactory to their 
anxious hosts. 

Mr. Hamilton was as attentive as possible at 
supper to everybody, particularly to Lois, of 
course ; but it struck her he was on much more 
friendly terms with the rest of the party than 


A CONCEKT AT HOUGHTON 


211 


with her. Miss Belden scintillated with wit, 
and told such good stories and made everybody 
so happy and jolly that Lois was radiant. She 
was so proud to have these Houghton men see 
how perfectly delightful her adored teacher 
could be, of whom, knowing her only by repu- 
tation, they stood somewhat in awe. Lois saw 
that she had captivated Mr. Hamilton and was 
in turn captivated by him. Being petite and 
dark-eyed herself, Miss Belden said she always 
liked big, blue-eyed men. “ Especially when 
they are so simple and manly in their ways 
as your friend,” she said to Lois when they 
were again putting on their cloaks and furs for 
the concert. 

Lois was inclined to say he was not her 
friend, for she did not feel that he had been 
altogether friendly that evening; but instead 
she said nothing. 

The concert was a success, given principally by 
the Glee Club, but not entirely. Mr. Beacher had 
quite a prominent role and could not, of course, sit 
with them. They naturally felt more interest in 
him than in the others, and Isabel’s eyes danced 
as she whispered to Lois, after a song where as 
tenor soloist he had won great applause : 


212 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“ Isn’t he perfectly fine ? I believe I like 
singing better than foot-ball, after all.” 

Lois gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze 
and whispered in return, “ So do I.” 

It was on their way to the hotel from old 
College Hall (classic it may be, but primitive in 
the extreme with its paper muslin stage hang- 
ings) that Lois made a remark that brought out 
some explanations from Mr. Hamilton. 

The moon had risen while they were in the 
concert-room. It was a little past the full, but 
still round and brilliant ; and Lois said, 

“ That looks exactly like the moon we went 
skating by, Mr. Hamilton ; is it the same time 
of the month ?” 

It was said tentatively. She was very impa- 
tient of his mood, and if he had any cause of 
complaint against her, she would make an Olden- 
ing for him to approach the subject. 

He looked down at her quickly as if to ques- 
tion her purpose before he replied : 

“ Not quite ; that was the first quarter, 
and this is the third. Do you know that it will 
be five weeks to-morrow since I saw you last?” 

“ Is it as long as that?” said Lois, lightly. 
“ I don’t quite understand why it should have 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 


213 


been and then quickly, as a sudden remem- 
brance came to her of his skating through the 
water, “ You have not been ill, have you ? You 
didn’t take cold ?” 

“ No ; or at least, not to amount to anything. 
I was laid up a day or two with a sore throat, 
but that was nothing. I was afraid from your 
manner when I left you that you were really 
offended with me, although you tried not to 
appear to be. And I assure you, Miss Darcy, 
I actually tried to make myself believe that I 
had done wrong, so that I could write to you 
and apologize and reinstate myself in your good 
opinion. But then when I knew I hadn’t ; that 
what I had done was perfectly right and proper, 
and the only thing to be done under the circum- 
stances, I couldn’t bring myself to the apology, 
even to recover the friendship I was afraid I 
had lost. And the more I thought about it, I 
began to feel very much hurt, and even to 
imagine you might be, like so many other 
women, j^erfectly unreasonable, and I might as 
well not try to please you.” 

He stopped a moment, and before he could 
begin again, Lois, who in the first part of his 
speech had felt a good deal of compunction, but 


214 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


was beginning now to feel that she was being 
arraigned, broke in coldly : 

“ Then I suppose you think it is I who owe 
the apology, and you have invited me here to 
give me an opportunity of making it.” 

There was a little of the Darcy hauteur in her 
voice. 

“ Oh ! no, no!” said Mr. Hamilton, quickly, 
despair in his tone and in the gesture that ac- 
companied it. 

“Are we never to understand each other ? I 
invited you hoping that we might come to some 
understanding, and I could get back on the old 
footing. But if you let me, I will tell you how 
I came to dare to ask you. It was Sunday night, 
and I was sitting in my room in no very envi- 
able frame of mind. I had been counting on 
this concert all winter, hoping there would be 
snow and I could bring you over in a sleigh ; 
and now here was the concert close at hand, and 
the best of sleighing, and I didn’t suppose there 
was any use of thinking about asking you for 
it ; or, rather, I believe I was too proud and 
stubborn to make any overtures when I felt you 
were unjust to me. Suddenly there came to my 
mind that Sunday evening we spent with you 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 


215 


and your mother on Elm Street, when we had 
such a delightful, home-like time. And I 
thought of all your mother’s kindness to me 
and how lovely and noble she was, and it came 
over me with a rush that I had been doing you 
an injustice — your mother’s daughter could not 
be capricious and unreasonable. And then I 
remembered, too, how much you missed that 
mother ; so much that I never dare speak of her 
to you, and I determined on the instant that I 
would arrange for the concert and have an op- 
portunity to explain to you. I went right out 
to see Beadier and Markham, and of course they 
were ready for it, and I wrote the note and mailed 
it that evening.” 

His unexpected reference to her mother and 
the tenderness of his manner in speaking of her 
touched Lois to the quick. For the moment 
she could not speak. He was a quick and keen 
observer, and with an almost imperceptible pres- 
sure of the hand that lay on his arm, he went on : 

“And now I do want to apologize. Not for 
carrying you across the water ; if we are ever in 
the same predicament again, I shall do the same 
thing, with your consent, I hope ; but if not, 
without it. But I want to apologize for having 


216 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


been unjust to you in my thoughts, and for hav- 
ing sulked so long, for that is exactly what it 
was. Will you forgive me ?” 

He waited a moment. “ Here we are at the 
hotel. Just one word. Please.” 

Lois was still struggling with the tears her 
mother’s name had invoked, and she could not 
raise her eyes nor utter more than a monosylla- 
ble, but it was the right one, and Mr. Hamilton 
entered the hotel with his head up and the air 
of a king. 

And what a change in him when they were 
once more in the sleigh on their way home ! He 
was the merriest of the party, and sang more 
funny songs and told more and better stories 
than any one. He was really brilliant, and Lois 
had never thought him so before, though she 
had long since ceased to think him “ stupid.” 

But when they had left Old Bradley and had 
begun to cross the river meadows, while the 
merriment was at its height, he turned to Lois : 

“ I want to say something to you, Miss 
Darcy.” 

They were separated a little from the others 
by their position, and he spoke in a low tone. 

“ Look up at me while I speak, please, so that 


A CONCERT AT HOUGHTON 


217 


I can tell when to stop. Twice I have spoken 
to you about your mother, and twice I have 
brought the tears by so doing. Now I think 
more of your mother than you probably have 
any idea of, and I would like to talk with you 
about her and hear about her from you ; and I 
think if you should once get into the way of 
talking to me about her, you would get over that 
sensitiveness, and I wouldn’t feel that I dare not 
utter her name when I really want to talk of 
her. Suppose you try it and begin now by tell- 
ing me all the news from her. You see I 
haven’t heard a word since she went away.” 

It was quite true that Mr. Hamilton did want 
to hear from Mrs. Darcy, for whom he had con- 
ceived the warmest admiration ; but it was also 
true that he had made up his mind to broach 
the subject thus frankly for Lois’s sake. He 
saw that her mother’s absence continued to be a 
sore subject with her, and he believed that noth- 
ing would get her into a stronger way of view- 
ing it but to talk it over freely and fully. 

Lois understood that, too; and with a little 
effort in the beginning she was soon talking 
easily, telling him everything she knew about 
her mother since she had left Norwood, And 


218 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


then she was led into talking of her life in St. 
Mark’s, and he of his Georgia home, until by 
the time they were in sight of the college they 
had learned more of each other than they had 
known in all the months before. 

He had helped Lois from the sleigh at the 
door of the Harvey, and they were all taking 
merry leave of each other. He was holding the 
reins in one hand, standing beside the sleigh. 
He had asked Lois if he might come to vespers 
on Sunday, and she, remembering her mother’s 
words, had said she would rather he would wait 
until the Sunday after. And then he found an 
opportunity of saying, as he held her hand for 
“ Good-bye 

“ And you are quite sure I am back on the 
old footing ?” 

And Lois had answered with a bright smile, 
“I am quite sure.” But she was mistaken. 
When two friends have had a misunderstanding, 
there is never any return to exactly the same 
place. They either lose ground or gain it. 
And Mr. Hamilton had not lost ground. 


CHAPTER XV 


BASKET-BALL 

The term was nearing its close. Only two 
weeks more, and Lois would be on the train, 
bound for home and mother. She hardly 
dared think of it, it sent the blood tingling 
through her veins to her very finger-tips. 
Only two weeks between her and that precious 
mother ! In the interval would come the last 
great event of the winter term, the basket-ball 
game between the Freshmen and the Sopho- 
mores, and Lois was practicing faithfully every 
day. Miss Baker had proposed some time before 
that Lois should go home with her at the Easter 
holidays. “ I would so love to have a visit from 
you, and it is so far to go to St. Mark’s.” 

Lois expressed the pleasure that it would give 
her to make the visit, but said at once that she 
could not think of not going home to see her 
mother, and though Miss Baker had often re- 
curred to it, Lois hardly gave it a moment’s 
thought. 


219 


220 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Sometimes, when Margaret was picturing all 
the lovely things they would do, if she would 
only go home with her at Easter, Lois had 
thought she would like to visit her some time. 
She had not been to New York since she was a 
child, and to every Western girl, New York is 
a kind of glittering Mecca, where all that is 
fascinating and delightful in life is enshrined. 
The prospect of visiting there in such a delight- 
ful home, as she knew Mrs. Baker’s must be, 
would have been irresistibly alluring, but for 
the dearer prospect of seeing her mother. That 
morning two letters had arrived for Lois. One 
was the usual bi-weekly letter from her mother, 
and had been devoured before the other was 
even glanced at. One sentence in it had 
troubled her a little. “The M., L. & W. 
passed its dividend this quarter. Isn’t it too 
bad? Just when we need the money so much. 
The circular letter from the Directors accom- 
panying the notice says it is due to the present 
financial stringency, and they feel assured that 
it will not be found necessary to resort to such 
emergency measures again. And we’ll hope 
not, too; won’t we, Lois ? And in the mean- 
while, I suppose we will have to be just a little 


BASKET-BALL 


221 


bit more economical.” Lois was apt to take 
money matters a little more seriously than her 
mother. She knew all about her mother’s 
affairs. They had been in the habit of talking 
them over together from the time Lois was a 
little child, and it was often Lois who restrained 
her mother from some extravagance into which 
she was tempted for the sake of her child, on 
whom she would have liked to lavish all the 
good things of this world. 

Lois knew that the M., L. & W. dividend was 
not a large one. It was just about what the 
expenses of her trip home would have been, and 
no doubt her mother was counting on it to meet 
that expense. 

“ I am afraid mamma will be dipping into her 
capital,” she thought. She had known her 
mother to do that several times before when 
very much pressed. With a little wrinkle be- 
tween her eyes that always came when she was 
worried or troubled, she opened the second let- 
ter, postmarked “ New York,” and directed in 
an entirely strange hand. It was from Mrs. 
Baker, a very sweet and cordial note, inviting 
Lois to come home with Margaret for the Easter 
holidays ; telling her how much she desired to 


222 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


meet lier daughter’s little friend, whom Mar- 
garet said looked so like her own Helen. And 
then she added, in conclusion : “ If we can 

offer you no other inducement, perhaps the dif- 
ference in expense may tempt you. You can, 
of course, come on Margaret’s pass, which is 
always made out for two, and I do not think 
your Easter trip need cost you anything.” 

Lois appreciated the kindliness of this last 
argument. Margaret’s father was a wealthy 
railroad man. Margaret herself was always 
liberally supplied with pocket money, and she 
knew that Lois had to be very careful in her ex- 
penditures. 

The arrival of the two letters together seemed 
to Lois like another of those “ indications of 
Providence.” She was more troubled after 
reading the second than she had been after 
reading the first. Here seemed to he the very 
way pointed out to her to save almost the exact 
amount of her mother’s lost dividend. But to 
give up seeing her mother — that seemed more 
than Lois’s strength was equal to. She had been 
looking forward to it so long, and her mother — 
could she endure such a postponement? But 
the more Lois thought of it, the more it seemed 


BASKET-BALL 


223 


to her that she ought to accept Mrs. Baker’s in- 
vitation. There were plenty of girls from the 
West, and far richer girls than Lois, who never 
saw mother and home from September to June. 
What other girls could do, Lois felt sure she 
could do. But then her mother ! That, after 
all, must be the deciding point. If she should 
be perfectly willing, and was not going to suffer 
too much from the disappointment, then Lois 
thought she ought to accept the invitation ; but 
if otherwise, her duty was plain. She would 
write to her mother immediately, explaining it 
all to her, and inclosing Mrs. Baker’s letter, and 
her mother should decide. 

It had taken a long time to think it all over, 
and come to this conclusion. Lois was glad it 
was Wednesday afternoon, and no lessons, and 
glad, too, that Margaret had not happened to 
come in and find her in such perplexity. She 
could tell her now, when she saw her, about the 
invitation, and that she had written to her 
mother to see if she should accept it. The time 
was short. It would take at least a week to re- 
ceive her mother’s answer, and Lois sat down 
and dispatched her letter at once. 

She found it a difficult letter to write, for she 


224 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


was afraid her mother would think she wanted 
to go to New York, rather than home to her, 
and so she said how much she wanted to see her, 
and how much she would miss her if she did 
not go home ; but perhaps this time she had 
better save the money, and it would just balance 
the lost dividend. And then, after writing that, 
she was afraid her mother would think she was 
making too great a sacrifice, and not consider it 
for a moment ; and so she added that she would 
no doubt have a very nice time, and set forth in 
rather glowing colors some of the allurements 
which had been presented to her. 

Lois was not at all satisfied with the letter, 
fearful that her mother would think she wanted 
to go to New York, and fearful that she would 
think she did not want to go. She closed by 
saying, she would leave it to her to decide ; and 
whatever the decision, she would abide by it 
cheerfully. 

After it was written and sent, Lois felt the 
burden of uncertainty relieved, and began to 
think that going to New York was not to be 
considered in the light of duty alone. There 
was much that was very alluring to a young 
girl eager to know the world, and she purposely 


BASKET-BALL 


225 


dwelt on the delights that probably awaited her 
there, until when she met Margaret, she was 
able to talk quite enthusiastically on the pleas- 
ure it would give her to accept Mrs. Baker’s 
invitation, if she found her mother thought it 
best. 

And, after all, it was just as Isabel said. Lois 
did play on the basket-ball team. It was in the 
latter part of the game, and at a critical moment. 
The gymnasium gallery was thronged. The 
faculty were out in force, wearing the Sopho- 
more yellow or the Freshman red, and the 
President wearing both impartially. The two 
teams, with their dresses of dark blue, and 
sashes of their class colors, with glowing cheeks 
and sparkling eyes, had been doing some fine 
playin'g. 

The score was almost even, but the Freshmen 
were on the point of putting the ball into the 
basket, and it would probably be the last score 
and a draw, for the time was nearly up, when 
one of the very best players on the Freshman 
team, Miss Brown, fell with the ball in her 
hands, as she was about to pass it to Miss Bent- 
ley, the tall Freshman who stood by the basket 
for the purpose of putting in the ball. The tall 
15 


226 HER COLLEGE DAYS 

Sophomore, standing in the same place to pre- 
vent it, quickly saw her advantage, seized the 
ball, and was about to hurl it back, when the 
umpire stopped the game temporarily. Miss 
Brown had not risen ; she was evidently hurt. 
They found she had sprained her ankle, and 
while they were removing her from the field, 
and attending to her injuries, the Freshman 
captain appointed Lois to take her place. 

Lois’s quick eye saw that here was her 
opportunity to save the game. She stepped 
right into Miss Brown’s place, with eyes fixed 
steadily on the ball, and when play began 
again, the ball had hardly left the tall Sopho- 
more’s hand before Lois had seized it, passed 
it swiftly to Miss Bentley, and it was in the* 
basket. 

“ Time !” called the umpire, “ and the score 
stands even !” 

The excitement was intense. Never before 
had the Freshmen come so near beating the 
Sophomores, and they claimed vociferously that 
if the umpire had noticed some flagrant fouls 
the game would have been theirs. The Sopho- 
mores begged for another five minutes ; they 
could not stand the disgrace of a draw game, 


BASKET-BALL 227 

and they felt sure five minutes more would give 
them the victory. 

The Freshmen, on the other hand, were quite 
willing- to rest on their laurels. The umpire 
was besieged, but would not decide so weighty 
a question and appealed to the President. The 
Sophomores, older and more daring than the 
Freshmen, and supported by the powerful 
Seniors, plead for the five minutes, and it was 
granted. The little interval of rest had given 
the Freshmen time to find out how tired and 
how nervous they were, they began to lose con- 
fidence in themselves and played poorly. Lois 
alone was fresh and confident of success. She 
was everywhere at once ; the ball no sooner left 
a Sophomore’s hand than Lois had it and was 
flinging it to Miss Bentley. Her swift and 
accurate playing called forth ringing cheers 
from the Freshmen and Juniors, but the Sopho- 
more guards were always a little too quick, and 
Miss Bentley never had another chance to put 
it in the basket. At the end of the 'five minutes 
the Sophomores had scored another point and 
the game was theirs. 

The wildest confusion prevailed. Freshmen 
and Sophomores gathered around their defeated 


228 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and victorious teams, and there were recrimina- 
tions and counter-recriminations ; unrecorded 
fouls were charged to both sides, and the 
Freshmen insisted that the extra five minutes 
should not be counted. Freshmen were weep- 
ing, their Junior coaches were weeping, and the 
umpire, charged with favoritism, was weeping 
and declaring she would never umpire another 
game. 

At supper, the battle was all fought over 
again, for it chanced that there were several 
members of each team in the Harvey, and three 
Freshmen and two Sophomores left the table in 
tears. 

“ Do you suppose,” said Miss Belden, as the 
last one left the room, “ that there is so much 
weeping among the men in college after a foot- 
ball game?” 

“ Oh ! no !” said Lois, “ I have always heard 
they have an entirely different way of venting 
their feelings, which seems to give them as great 
relief as tears do us, but it is a very different 
way.” 

“Well, Lois,” said Isabel, later in the even- 
ing, “ I hope you are satisfied. You not only 
played, but everybody says it was your play 


BASKET-BALL 


229 


that made the game a draw and saved the 
Freshmen colors, for none of us count the 
extra five minutes. Lois Darcy, I solemnly 
declare that if I should read about a girl like 
you in a story, I should say she was an utterly 
impossible girl.” 


CHAPTEB XYI 


HOPE DEFERRED 

There were many times in the weeks that 
followed the Christmas holidays that Mrs. 
Darcy thought she had made a mistake in de- 
ciding upon the separation. Not for Lois ; her 
letters coming regularly, filled with accounts of 
skating and dancing, the great play, the 
Houghton concert, spreads, basket-ball, and 
Miss Belden, assured her mother that Lois was 
having just what she had coveted for her. She 
did feel a little anxious about Mr. Hamilton 
sometimes ; for Lois always wrote a full account 
of every time she saw him, and it seemed to 
her mother that there was something about him 
in almost every letter. She had rather rejoiced 
over the interval of five weeks when there had 
been no mention of him, though she wondered 
what could he the reason. She would not ques- 
tion Lois; if she saw him, Mrs. Darcy was 
very sure she would write about it. If there 
was any significant reason why she did not see 
230 


HOPE DEFERRED 


231 


him, she still thought Lois would tell her why ; 
and if there was no reason she was not going to 
suggest questions to Lois’s mind. But after the 
Houghton concert, the letters were fuller than 
ever of him. There had been another sleigh- 
ing party, this time a party of twelve, most of 
them Juniors and Seniors, and Miss Belden 
again the chaperone, to take supper at Chan 
Richardson’s in Whitby. Mr. Hamilton had 
been driver again. The seats were wide, they 
sat three on a seat, and Miss Belden had been 
in front with Mr. Hamilton and herself, and 
had done most of the talking, of course, and 
they had had such a good time. 

There had been more skating, and Lois re- 
ported herself as becoming quite an accom- 
plished skater, thanks to Mr. Hamilton. And 
there had been mention of his appearing at ves- 
pers several times, and once or twice remaining 
to spend the evening, when they had spent it 
most delightfully in Miss Belden’s room and be- 
tween whom and Mr. Hamilton had been formed 
quite a mutual admiration society. Lois did not 
forget to tell her mother, either, how anxious Mr. 
Hamilton always was to hear from her, and her 
letters usually contained a message from him — 


232 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


sometimes liis regards, sometimes it was to say 
liow much he missed her, and in the later letters, 
it was always his “ love and l Auf Wiedersehen.’ ” 
Mrs. Darcy was glad to be remembered by him, 
and generally sent him some little message in 
return, and still, she felt just a little anxious, 
hoping with all her heart that her little girl 
would return to her heart-whole ; and she did 
not fail to give her little bits of loving advice, 
still on the important question of how to pre- 
vent too great devotion. She did not say very 
much, for she felt that she must steer clear of 
the opposite danger of arousing, by her anxiety, 
a latent feeling that otherwise might lie dormant. 

It was not on Lois’s account, therefore, that she 
doubted the wisdom of her plan ; but she some- 
times feared that she was not going to be able to 
endure the strain herself. She was not so strong 
as she thought. She had fancied there was 
nothing that she could not do and endure for 
Lois bravely, and even cheerfully, in the 
thought that it was for her. Mentally and 
morally she believed she would be able to go 
through with it, but she sometimes feared that 
physically she would give way. She had not 
fully realized the void it would leave in her 


HOPE DEFERRED 


233 


life to take out of it so suddenly what had so 
filled it for seventeen years. 

So, immediately after Lois’s departure for 
Norwood, she plunged feverishly into her 
old work. She would not allow herself time 
to think, and she added new lines of work to the 
old ones. As she had said to Lois, there was 
always so much more work than workers to do 
it, and there was not a charitable organization 
in the city that would not have welcomed gladly 
such a well-known and efficient worker. She 
did not want to undertake more than she could 
do well, but she did want to undertake all she 
could do, believing that with her hands and her 
heart full of other people’s woes was the only 
way she could bear her own. 

There were many society engagements also to be 
met. Her old friends welcomed her back very 
lovingly and delightedly, for they had expected 
to give her up almost entirely for four years. 
And there were teas and receptions and cozier 
dinners and luncheons given in her honor, 
and at all of them Mrs. Darcy had been bright 
and even gay. And people had said that they 
had never supposed Mrs. Darcy could bear a 
separation from Lois so well, it was wonderful ; 


234 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


she was always cheerful, and they thought her 
spirits seemed higher than they used. And so 
no doubt they did ; for in her eager determina- 
tion to be brave and cheerful, she often carried 
it to the extreme of feverish gayety, which was 
quite unlike the quiet, gentle Mrs. Darcy her 
friends had always known. 

There was only one friend who seemed to 
guess that the gay spirits were not altogether 
natural, and that the cheerfulness might be as- 
sumed. Dr. Colton, her old family physician, 
who had known her from babyhood, whose good 
wife had “ taken her to board,” she said — had 
given her a home, Mrs. Darcy said — was the only 
one that did not altogether like the flush he so 
often saw on her cheek, and thought her eye was 
brighter than was natural, and sometimes shook 
his head when he heard her friends tell her how 
well she was looking. 

He said to his wife one day, when Mrs. Darcy 
had just left them, going out to attend a meeting 
of the Woman’s Christian Association, “ Eliza- 
beth, I wish you would try to persuade Mrs. 
Darcy not to belong to so many societies, and 
to so many teas ; she is killing herself.” 

“ Why, father,” exclaimed Mrs. Colton in gen- 


HOPE DEFEKKED 


235 


uine astonishment, for so she always called her 
husband, “ I never saw Mrs. Darcy look so well 
and seem so bright, and everybody else says the 
same. What do you mean ?” 

“ I mean/’ said her husband grimly, “ that if 
she goes on as she is doing now, there will 
be a terrible smash-up some day, and we will 
have Lois sent for in hot haste, when it is 
too late, perhaj)S. It is all nonsense, separating 
mother and daugher in that way, such a 
mother and such a daughter, anyhow. A fig 
for your higher education ! What does it all 
amount to, compared with a broken heart ?” 
And the doctor, who had been waxing wroth as 
he talked, rose and stamped up and down the 
room. 

Mrs. Colton was frightened. She had im- 
plicit faith in her husband’s powers of diagnosis, 
and she determined to watch Mrs. Darcy nar- 
rowly, and to persuade her, if possible, to give 
up part of her work, and if things were really 
so bad, to send for Lois. But she found it was 
useless to try to persuade her to give up her 
work. # “As well ask me to give up my life,” 
Mrs. Darcy said, almost passionately. 

And as the days went on, and she still seemed 


236 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


so bright and cheerful, Mrs. Colton concluded 
that, for once, her infallible husband must be 
mistaken. She was too good a physician’s wife 
to tell him so, but she told him that she could 
not do much with Mrs. Darcy, but she was 
going to try to feed her up, at least, and tempt 
her with little dainties, for Mrs. Colton ac- 
knowledged that her appetite was not what it 
ought to be, and she believed firmly in good 
feeding, as a cure for most of the ills that flesh 
is heir to. 

Mrs. Darcy herself knew that she was far 
from well. A restless energy was consuming 
her, and her strength was daily growing less. 
Sometimes she felt a little alarmed about herself, 
but there was always the thought that every 
day, every week, slowly as they dragged them- 
selves along, were bringing her nearer to Lois. 
It was less than two weeks now to the Easter 
vacation, and in the joy of the thought, she was 
really beginning to feel a return of the old 
strength and elasticity, so different from the 
feverish energy that kept her always at work, 
while it was consuming her very life. Even 
her appetite was improved, greatly to Mrs. Col- 
ton’s delight, and the doctor, who had been giv- 


HOPE DEFEEKED 


237 


in g her a tonic for some weeks, thought that at 
last his medicine was beginning to take effect. 

Mrs. Darcy had secretly been considering the 
possibility of returning with Lois after the 
Easter holidays, if she should find that Lois, too, 
had been suffering from the separation, or if it 
should seem impossible for her to part with her 
again. The passing of the M., L. & W. divi- 
dend would make that difficult, but there were 
some things, Mrs. Darcy felt, were worth more 
than money, and she was sure there were other 
ways in which she could economize and so feel 
justified in going back with Lois, if she felt that 
she could not stand another ten weeks’ separa- 
tion. 

Every day, and almost every hour, she pic- 
tured to herself, even to the smallest detail, the 
joy of that meeting now so rapidly drawing 
near. Only one week now, and to-day she 
would write, sending Lois the check for travel- 
ing expenses. She would have to draw a little 
on the future for it, for she had been depending 
on the M., L. & W. check, as Lois supposed. 
But she did not care ; that was a small matter in 
comparison with the great joy the money was 
going to bring her. 


238 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


The happiest hours of Mrs. Darcy’s life now 
were those she spenfr in writing to Lois and in 
reading her letters. She looked forward almost 
as eagerly to the time of writing her as to the 
time of receiving her letters. She felt so much 
as if she were having a talk with her little girl. 
To-day she awoke with a feeling of expectancy 
that something pleasant was going to happen, 
and then she remembered what it was. She 
was to go to a Board* meeting in the morning, 
and while she was out she would get the check, 
and after luncheon she would spend the after- 
noon in writing to Lois. 

She was really looking like her old self, 
Dr. Colton said at the breakfast table. And 
while still at breakfast came the mail, bring- 
ing an unexpected letter from Lois ; she would 
not open it in the breakfast room ; that was 
too exquisite a pleasure for any eyes, how- 
ever kind, to witness. But breakfast was long 
this morning. Dr. Colton was in a talking 
mood, and had much to say on the Busso-mania 
that was driving France wild — on Lord Bose- 
berry’s attitude toward the Upper House — and 
the degrading spectacle of our own Upper House, 
filibustering over the tariff — topics all dis- 


HOPE DEFERRED 


239 


cussed at length in his morning paper. Even 
when they had risen from the table, she could 
not get away at once to her room. Mrs. Colton 
was expecting a dressmaker, and wanted Mrs. 
Darcy’s advice on some occult point of trim- 
ming before she should arrive; and Mabel, 
Lois’s friend, and very dear to Mrs. Darcy on 
that account, wanted her help in translating a 
troublesome passage in her “Athalie.” 

But she was free at last, and, trying not to 
seem eager and hurried, she slipped away with 
the jDrecious letter in her hand. Once safely in 
her room, she turned the key in the lock, that 
she might be absolutely free from intrusion, and 
sat down to read it. She read it once; read the 
enclosed note, and then slowly read the letter 
through again. 

How long she sat there she never knew. She 
felt as if an icy hand had gripped her heart, 
and was slowly crushing the life out. She was 
half conscious of feeling glad that her room was 
already in order, so that she would not be likely 
to be disturbed by the maid ; glad that Mabel 
was at school ; glad that Mrs. Colton had a 
dressmaker to keep her engaged all the morn- 
ing. She did not try to think, and feeling 


240 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


seemed to be dead. She was conscious only of 
one idea — an awful fact that seemed to her like 
some hideous monster, crouching to spring at 
her and throttle her. Lois could get along 
without her. Lois could wait another ten 
weeks, twelve weeks, without seeing her. The 
point of the money to be saved hardly impressed 
her at all, and it did not occur to her that Lois 
might be making a great sacrifice when she pro- 
posed to go to New York, instead of coming 
home. 

Mrs. Darcy’s views were not narrow ; they were 
probably broader and more fair-minded than 
those of the average woman, or man either. But 
one idea had taken such complete possession of her 
for the last few weeks — the idea of seeing Lois 
at Easter — she had been clinging to it with such 
desperation, as almost the only hold left her on 
life and happiness, that when that seemed about 
to fail her, everything seemed to give way. 
She felt as if there was no solid ground any- 
where ; almost her love and trust in Lois seemed 
to be without foundation. Only one thought 
kept running through her brain, “ I am not 
necessary to Lois.” She read between the lines 
in her letter, and read most unjustly to Lois, 


HOPE DEFERRED 


241 


that she was anxious to accept this invitation. 
She was dazzled with the enticements that had 
been set before her, and the failure of the divi- 
dends had come opportunely as a convenient 
pretext. She could easily wait a few more 
weeks to see her mother. She would abide 
cheerfully by her mother’s decision. That is, if 
her mother insisted on her coming home, she 
could come “ cheerfully.” For the first time in 
her life there was something like bitterness in 
her heart toward her child. Lois had intended 
to express to her mother that if she thought it 
was best for her to go to New York, she would 
try to be very brave and cheerful about giving 
up her visit home and seeing her mother, which 
was none the less the longing desire of her 
heart. But it was an unfortunate expression, 
perhaps, at least her mother had interpreted it 
in quite a different way — that she would try to 
be cheerful if she had to give up the New York 
visit. 

It was a warm day in early spring. The win- 
dows were open, and the air that came in was as 
soft and balmy as a June day in Norwood. But 
Mrs. Darcy was cold. She roused herself from 
her semi-stupor finally, to find that she was al- 
16 


242 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


most in a chill. It was long past time for her 
Board meeting, and it was rapidly nearing the 
hour for luncheon. She could not think of going 
down-stairs and meeting Dr. and Mrs. Colton in 
her dazed condition ; she would send word that 
she had a headache, and could not eat anything. 
It was true her head was aching frightfully, 
although she had not noticed it before. She 
rose and rang for Nor ah, and while waiting for 
her to come, went to the window and leaned out. 
A redbird, the first she had seen, was perched 
on the branch of a cottonwood tree just outside 
her window, fluttering his wings and shaking 
his little throat as he poured from it a torrent 
of joyous notes. 

The cottonwood was in its first delicate green 
leaf, and suddenly it flashed across her how she 
used to sit at her window in Norwood and watch 
the great maple opposite turn to red and gold, 
and then lose its leaves, and think with what 
delight she would watch it put them all on 
again in the spring. And now the spring had 
come, and she was here, and Lois in Norwood. 
She shivered and turned from her window 
just as Norah knocked at the door. She sent 
her message to Mrs. Colton, especially request- 


HOPE DEFERRED 


243 


ing that they should not send her anything ; she 
only wanted to be perfectly quiet and undis- 
turbed. The kind-hearted No rah, struck by 
the look of suffering in Mrs. Darcy’s face, 
wanted to insist on bringing her at least a little 
toast and tea ; but she managed to convince her 
that what she wanted was only rest and absolute 
quiet, and sent her away. She wrapped a light 
shawl about her, but she was still cold. Near 
the window stood her couch, luxuriously uphol- 
stered and piled with soft pillows. She sank 
down on it, burying her throbbing head among 
the pillows, and pulling up the warm slumber 
robe over her. Now, she thought, she would 
try to think of it connectedly, and decide what 
to write to Lois. But instead, there came to her 
happy memories of the days they had spent 
together in Norwood ; that lovely afternoon in 
Paradise, their trip to Fredericsburg, their 
walks and rides, the happy evenings and long 
talks they used to have together by their cozy 
fireside, and, last of all, came the memory of 
that golden Sunday in October, and the beautiful 
vesper service, when she had so fully resolved 
to bring every care and every sorrow to the 
Burden-bearer ; and she realized, with a startled 


244 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


feeling of almost remorse how far she had wan- 
dered from that resolve. But it was not too late 
to retrace her steps, and, closing her eyes, she 
brought her burdened heart to the Comforter, 
and emptied all its load of sorrow at His feet. 
She felt it roll away, as if a great physical 
weight had been lifted from her, and with it 
vanished every trace of the bitterness toward 
her child, that had made her suffering so keen. 
Two great tears forced themselves from under 
her closed eyelids, as, stretching out her arms as 
if to draw her child to her heart, she cried, 
“ Lois, darling, how could I ever doubt you for 
a moment — the best, the sweetest, the most lov- 
ing child God ever blessed a mother with! It 
is only that you are wiser and stronger than 
your weak, foolish mother. God bless her and 
God make me worthy of her !” And then, 
nestling like a little child among the pillows, 
and softly murmuring Lois’s name, she fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTEE XVII 


PATIENT WAITING 

Mrs. Darcy slept for hours — the sleep of one 
utterly exhausted. She woke with a start, to find 
that it was the middle of the afternoon . Mabel was 
just tip-toeing into the room, bearing in her hands 
a tray with a little pot of steaming tea and a cov- 
ered plate of toast. “ I hope I didn’t wake you,” 
said she, as Mrs. Darcy opened her eyes; “I 
tried to be very still, and if you were asleep I 
was going out again without disturbing you ; 
but I thought if you were awake, you must need 
at least a cup of tea by this time.” 

“ Why, Mabel, is it you ? Are you home from 
school? How long I must have slept!” And Mrs. 
Darcy sat up, trying to realize what it was that 
made her feel so weak and bruised. She realized 
it very soon ; but with the remembrance of the 
letter, and all the sorrow it had brought her, 
came also the sense of peace with which she had 
fallen asleep. Mabel drew up a little stand by 
the couch, and made the tea for her with many 

245 


246 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


anxious inquiries as to whether she felt better, 
and whether her headache was gone. When 
Mrs. Darcy assured her it was quite gone, and 
she felt very well, only a little weak, she deliv- 
ered a message from her mother. Did she think 
she would feel well enough to go to Mrs. Davis’s 
this evening? Mrs. Darcy had forgotten all 
about her dinner for the evening, and she wished 
— oh ! so ardently — that she could stay at home. 
She really did not feel equal to meeting so many 
people, but she knew that the little dinner had 
been made for her, and she could not disappoint 
her dear friend, Mrs. Davis. So she answered, 
“ I think so, Mabel. Tell your mother I will 
get up and dress presently, and see how I feel.” 
The tea did her good, and she was surprised 
with what relish she ate the delicately made 
toast. She had felt in the morning as if she 
could never eat anything again. But now, when 
Mabel had carried away her tray, she felt so 
much stronger and quite equal to the task of 
dressing. It was slow work, however, for she 
was still weak and languid, and when it was ac- 
complished, she felt that the result was hardly a 
success, as she saw the dark circles around her 
eyes and the extreme pallor of the face reflected 


PATIENT WAITING 


247 


in the glass. But her friends received her excuse 
of headache as sufficient explanation of her lack 
of color and slight languor, and she could feel 
when she returned home that she had not filled 
on her part in making her friend’s dinner a 
success. 

Mrs. Darcy had not told any one that Lois would 
not return at Easter. She said to herself that it 
was not fully decided, and until the decision was 
made, she did not feel equal to the discussions 
that would arise. Yet she had decided, or very 
nearly so. She knew that Lois was right. They 
ought to save the money, of course ; and while 
she no longer accused Lois of preferring New 
York, she thought it was an unusual opportunity 
for her to see New York society under the most 
favorable auspices. 

The next morning she wrote her letter, a brief 
one. She felt more languid, if possible, than on 
the day before, and the writing tired her. When 
she had finished it she put on her bonnet and 
took a down-town car to get a check to inclose in 
it. She could take a car just a block from the 
house and ride to the bank doors. It was another 
warm, lovely spring day. She got into an open 
car, and the rapid ride through the lovely air 


248 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


did her good. She made up her mind that she 
would ride out to the Park every pleasant morn- 
ing. She realized when she looked in the glass 
thaUhe rosy color that had always given her the 
effect of youth was quite gone, and the thinness 
she had noticed for a long time in the looseness 
of her clothing was beginning to make itself 
perceptible in her face. She must try to get 
herself into better condition for Lois’s sake. 
She would not like to have her come home and 
find the rosy roundness she admired so much in 
her “ pretty mamma,” as she often called her, all 
gone. Perhaps she was working too hard and 
had better resign from some of her societies; she 
would consider it. 

She was sending Lois money for her New 
York trip. She would not have her go among 
strangers without a comfortable supply to use 
as she wished, and she knew Lois would not 
be extravagant. She mailed her letter, and 
then, longing for solitude and fresh air, she 
boarded a cable train bound for the Park, and 
took a front seat on the “ grip.” It was what she 
and Lois used to do, when the pleasant spring 
days came. They liked to feel themselves rush- 
ing through the air, with nothing to obstruct 


PATIENT WAITING 


249 


their vision, and no fellow-passengers in front 
of them to make them realize it was not a pecu- 
liar kind of private vehicle, run for their sole 
benefit. At the entrance to the Park she left 
the car and wandered around on the grass, pick- 
ing great bunches of pale pink spring beauties 
and purple violets and white dog-tooth violets, 
so called, which do not even belong to the violet 
family. And she thought of all the springs that 
she and Lois had gathered them there together, 
from the time she had brought her, a little 
golden-haired baby, and set her down on the 
grass to creep among the flowers, making loud 
and joyous sniffs at them, and using her one 
word, “ Pitty, pitty !” She thought she could 
almost distinguish every individual spring 
since, in her memory. The next one, when she 
was a roguish toddler, and picked handfuls of 
the “ pitty fowers,” with no stems to speak of, 
and brought them tightly crushed in her small 
hand, to deposit in mamma’s lap. And then, 
when the beautiful child, with long, golden 
curls and seraphic eyes, always in dainty and 
picturesque costumes, eagerly gathering floral 
treasures, made a picture that carriages and 
Strollers through the Park often stopped to 


250 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


enjoy. And then, that last spring, just a year 
ago, when Lois had fastened a great bunch of 
violets in her mother’s gray dress, and had said, 
“Dear old Woodland Park, how we will miss 
you next spring, mamma and I, when we are 
away in Norwood ! But we will think of you, 
and talk of you, and often long to be here; 
won’t we, mamma ?” 

Mrs. Darcy had on her gray dress again, and 
she fastened a bunch of violets in it, just as 
Lois had done, and then went home for lunch- 
eon, with a little flush on her cheek, and a 
little brightness in her eyes that had not been 
there in the morning. 

When the good doctor heard where she had 
been he said, “ That’s right. Give up your 
societies and spend your mornings in the Park. 
The winter is over, and your poor can get on 
very well without you.” 

And so, gradually, she did give up her socie- 
ties, one after another, because she felt too list- 
less to keep them up. She tried for a while to 
go to the Park every pleasant morning, but the 
springs are warm in St. Mark’s, and after a while 
she could not summon energy enough for the 
little trip. She told Dr. Colton that she thought 


PATIENT WAITING 


251 


she had spring fever and needed a tonic — some- 
thing stronger than the one he had been giving 
her. “ The tonic you need is Lois,” said the 
doctor, gruffly ; “ better send for her.” But Mrs. 
Darcy would not think of it. It was only six 
weeks now until Lois would be at home, and 
every letter was full of the Glee Club concert 
soon to come off, and at which she was to sing a 
solo. How she wished her mother might be 
there to hear it ! “ Then why don’t you go on 

there and be at the concert, and stay till school 
is over, and come back with Lois,” said the doc- 
tor. Mrs. Darcy had been thinking of it, but 
the expense of the journey frightened her. If 
Norwood were only not so far away ! “ Expense 
nothing!” was the doctor’s rude rejoinder, for, 
having a heart as soft as a woman’s, he often 
tried to conceal his weakness by a particularly 
rough and forbidding exterior. It never fright- 
ened Mrs. Darcy. She knew him too well. But 
it did some people. “ Expense nothing !” said 
the doctor. “ I am your physician, and I order 
a change of air for you. Norwood air is what 
you need, and you may just as well go to work 
and get yourself ready to be there in time for the 
concert. Lois will sing twice as well with you 
there to hear her.” 


252 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


And so, with the doctor’s authority to support 
her in what she, herself, so longed to do, she let 
herself think of it, and finally decided to do it. 
Only she must first have at least one new dress. 
She could not go to Lois looking shabby. She 
had her dressmaker to see, shopping to do, and 
a thousand and one little preparations to make, 
in the stir and excitement of which her old 
energy seemed to return, and she was as bright 
and happy as a child. The dressmaker promised 
her dress so that she could start in time to reach 
Norwood the day before the concert. She had 
not written Lois that she was coming ; she wanted 
to surprise her. 

It was the day on which she was to start. The 
dress had come home, and was carefully packed 
in Mrs Darcy’s trunk, which stood open in her 
room waiting to receive the last little things. 
She was to take the evening train ; breakfast was 
just over, and she had gone up-stairs to get the 
money for Dr. Colton, who was to buy her tickets 
for her. The family was still in the break- 
fast-room, when suddenly they heard a sound 
which is like no other sound and which always 
strikes a chill to the hearts of those who 
hear it — the fall of a human body. The doctor 


PATIENT WAITING 


253 


uttered a sharp exclamation: “Mrs. Darcy !” 
and was up-stairs four steps at a time, with Mrs. 
Colton and Mabel not far behind him. They 
found her lying on the floor in her room, and so 
white and still that Mrs. Colton and Mabel burst 
into terrified sobs. They thought she was dead. 
For a few moments the doctor almost thought so 
too ; it was so difficult to find any signs of life. 
But he did at last detect a feeble, almost imper- 
ceptible pulse, and he set to work at once to re- 
store her. He had his wife and daughter and 
servants flying in all directions for ice, for hot 
water, for ammonia. Everything his skill could 
suggest was done. 

At last, when Dr. Colton was just about to 
give up in despair, she drew a long, labored 
breath like a sigh, and opened her eyes. 
“ Thank God !” said the doctor under his breath, 
and those who heard him felt that he had feared 
she might never open them. The doctor would 
not leave her to see any of his patients. He 
sat beside her, with his hand on her pulse, 
giving her from time to time a few drops of a 
powerful stimulant. After awhile she seemed 
better, and opening her eyes wide, turned to the 
doctor. “I can go to-night, doctor, can’t I? 


254 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


It was only a little fainting attack.” And the 
eager look that accompanied the words went to 
the doctor’s heart like a knife. He answered 
gently, “Not to-night, Mrs. Darcy, but to- 
morrow, if you seem perfectly well, I think 
you can go, and you will still be in time for the 
concert.” 

She had to be content with that, and her 
effort to be patient was pitiful. She thought she 
would soon be able to sit up, and made many 
efforts, as she was anxious to be ready for 
to-morrow, but every time she lifted her head 
from the pillows, she was glad to let it fall again, 
she was so weak and dizzy. At last she stopped 
trying, and iay still the rest of the day, only 
begging the doctor when she saw him that he 
would give her something that would quickly 
make her strong. 

Mrs. Colton stayed with her at night; she 
slept much of the time, but moaned in her sleep 
almost constantly. In the morning she woke 
early, and at once tried to rise, but fell back 
weak and exhausted, while such a look of 
anguish came over her face that Mrs. Colton 
thought she must be in great pain, and inquired 
if it were so. 


PATIENT WAITING 


255 


“ Oh ! no ; I have no pain, hut I am so weak, 
and I want to go to Lois.” It was like the 
plaintive cry of a child for its mother, and Mrs. 
Colton could hardly keep back the tears as she 
answered her. 

“You shall have some breakfast right away, 
and perhaps you will feel better when you have 
had a cup of tea ; I will go and see about it.” 

“ Oh ! yes, please,” whispered Mrs. Darcy 
faintly, catching eagerly at the least hope. 

Mrs. Colton hurried away to attend to it, and 
on the stairs met the doctor coming up to inquire 
for his patient. His wife stopped to tell him 
about her, and about the look on her face when 
she found she could not get up. The tears were 
running down Mrs. Colton’s face. “ Oh ! you 
don’t think she will die, do you ?” she said. The 
doctor shook his head ; he didn’t answer other- 
wise, but hurried on to Mrs. Darcy’s room. 

“ O doctor !” she said, the moment he opened 
the door, “ can I go ?” 

He came up to her cheerfully and took 
her hand. How small and wasted it was. 
“ Why, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, “ I don’t think 
it looks much like it this morning; does it? 
I expect my prescription came too late. You 


256 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


ought to have gone to Norwood two months 
ago. But we can do the next best thing ; 
we can have Lois out here. I can send her 
a telegram to-day, and she can be here the 
day after to-morrow.” Mrs. Darcy’s eyes had 
closed the moment Dr. Colton had uttered the 
first few words, and beneath the lids slow tears 
were pressing themselves. But the moment he 
said “ telegram” she opened them quickly. 

u Oh ! no, no, doctor ! You must not send a 
telegram ; it would kill Lois. There is no need 
of such hurry as that. Let Mabel write to her, 
but not a letter that will alarm her ; only say I 
am not well, and you think she had better not stay 
until the close of the term, but come home as 
soon as she can conveniently arrange it. Don’t 
frighten her, doctor, and don’t send the letter so 
that she will get it before the concert; it will 
only make a difference of a day or two, and I 
am sure there cannot be any such great need of 
haste.” She spoke with an effort, with long 
pauses between, but so eagerly that the good 
doctor could not deny her. 

“ Oh ! no he said cheerfully ; “ there is no 
hurry, of course ; only the sooner you see Lois 
the sooner you will begin to get well. You know 


PATIENT WAITING 


257 


about the mails of Norwood ; when should Mabel 
write to have it reach her the first mail after the 
concert ?” 

Mrs. Darcy thought a moment. “ A letter leav- 
ing here on the night mail reaches Norwood the 
second evening afterward, but too late for de- 
livery. She would get it the next morning. 
Mabel can write to-day, and she will get it the 
morning after the concert.” 

“In time to take the morning train ?” 

“No, but she can take one in the evening, and 
it will only make a day’s difference and give her 
time to get ready. Don’t alarm her, doctor.” 

And so it was settled, and Mabel, who could 
not be induced to go to school and leave her dear 
Mrs. Darcy so ill, especially as she could be of 
real use in sitting in her room and giving her 
mother a chance to rest, sat down and wrote the 
letter as carefully as she could, not to alarm Lois 
unnecessarily, and mailed it in time for the even- 
ing collection. Mrs. Darcy asked her to calcu- 
late how soon Lois could get home if she should 
take the first train after receiving the letter, and 
they decided that on the evening of the fifth day 
was the first moment Lois could be expected. It 
might be later, of course, if she did not take in 
17 


258 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


the gravity of the occasion, and waited to com- 
plete her arrangements thoroughly. 

But now it was evident that Mrs. Darcy was 
very ill. Dr. Colton could find no traces of 
organic heart trouble, as he had at first feared ; 
her pulse was feeble and flickering, and her tem- 
perature, though not very high, was above the 
normal; but her leading and most alarming 
symptom was an intense weakness, if weakness 
may be so described. Much of the time she lay 
in a semi-stupor, and then there would be hours 
when, while apparently sleeping, she was con- 
stantly muttering and moaning as if in delirium. 

On the evening of the second day after the 
letter had been sent, she suddenly opened her eyes 
wide, and looked at Mabel, who sat beside her, 
clearly and intelligently. “ What day is this, 
Mabel ?” 

“ The fourteenth,” said Mabel, almost fright- 
ened, and quite overjoyed to hear her speak 
so clearly and rationally. 

“ Then this is the night of the concert, and per- 
haps at this very moment Lois is singing her 
solo.” Mrs. Darcy closed her eyes, and lay a long 
time very quietly, with her hands clasped on her 
breast. Mabel saw her lips move a few times, but 


PATIENT WAITING 


259 


could hear no words ; she fancied she was pray- 
ing ; and she was. In thought, she was in the 
concert room at Norwood. She saw her darling as 
plainly as if she had indeed been sitting in the 
brilliant audience that filled every standing 
place. She saw the starry eyes, the head thrown 
slightly back, and heard the rich, sweet notes 
that poured from the white throat. And then 
she prayed, “ Heavenly Father, let me live to 
see my darling !” 

Mabel, sitting by her side, did not like to 
move, she lay so quietly ; but after a long while, 
she leaned over her, and listened to her breath- 
ing, and spoke her name softly. There was no 
reply, and she saw that Mrs. Darcy was sleeping 
quietly, as she had not slept for many hours. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 

Lois had come back from her Easter holidays 
with one thought uppermost — ten long weeks 
until she could see her mother. She had imme- 
diately adopted a system, that heretofore she 
had rather scorned as childish, marking off on 
her calendar each day as it passed, and counting 
the days that remained. It was not ten weeks, 
either ; it was only nine, for she had discov- 
ered that First Class girls were permitted to leave 
as soon as examinations were over, to make room 
in boarding-houses and assembly halls for the 
rush of Commencement visitors. She had 
a fine visit to New York; her friends left 
nothing undone to make it enjoyable. They 
had not done very much sight-seeing, for there 
were so many social engagements — concerts, 
dances, luncheons, dinners, teas, calls, and shop- 
ping, they would have been utterly worn out, 
but that Mrs. Baker had insisted that they 
should sleep every morning until it was neces- 
260 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


261 


sary to get ready for some engagement. Lois 
began to feel that if that was a sample of the 
life of a society girl, it was no easy life, and 
though two weeks of it were delightful, she did 
not believe she coveted it as a career. They 
spent several mornings at the museum, and again 
Lois felt that she was having only a tantalizing 
glimpse of art treasures that she would have 
liked to revel in for weeks. The opera season 
was over, but they had some great concerts, 
with some of the opera stars to sing, and Pad- 
erewskis recital, to set her quite as wild as any 
of the New York girls ; and of course, she was 
very happy, for music was her passion. 

Mr. Hamilton had spent part of the last week 
in New York, and Mrs. Baker had made him 
very welcome at her house, inviting him infor- 
mally to luncheon and dinner and including him 
in every party that was possible. Lois had 
a chance to compare him with the New York 
men, and thought it was not to the detriment of 
the Georgian. Not but that she liked the New 
York men that she had met; she did, very much ; 
they had such ease and grace ; they seemed to 
know their world so well, and the facile way in 
which they glanced from one conversational topic 


262 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


to another, touching on everything, dwelling on 
nothing, and showing themselves thoroughly at 
home in little society nothings, was very captivat- 
ing to a young girl who had seen almost nothing 
of society. And the pretty Gale girl, with the 
wonderful voice, a graceful dancer, and not afraid 
to talk, was a great favorite with Margaret’s 
friends, much to Margaret’s delight, for she had 
been quite sure it would be so. 

Engagements were made so far ahead that by 
the time Mr. Hamilton arrived there was very 
little chance of seeing much of him. But Mrs. 
Baker, who was as kind and thoughtful as a so- 
ciety leader usually is, managed to secure part- 
ners for him to those affairs that required them, 
making him her own escort when nothing better 
offered, so that he had the pleasure of at least being 
near Lois, seeing her, and occasionally exchang- 
ing a few words with her. Sometimes he was 
not quite so sure that it was a pleasure, when he 
saw the devotion of the city men who, in his 
humility, he thought might easily stand a better 
chance with a young girl than a semi-rustic 
Southerner, as he called himself. The term was 
a misnomer, for there was a chivalrous courtesy 
and high-bred deference in the Southerner’s 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


263 


manner, which, while not at all cosmopolitan, 
was far from rustic, and made him at once a 
favorite with every woman he met. 

But he did have one pleasure that he could 
never hope to have at Gale, at least until Lois 
was a Junior, when, if lie was so fortunate as to 
be invited to the “ Junior Prom,” he might hope 
for it. One of Margaret’s friends was to give a 
large dance, which would close the holiday fes- 
tivities, as they must start the next day for Nor- 
wood. Margaret had secured an invitation for 
Mr. Hamilton, and as soon as he heard of it he 
at once asked Lois for as many dances as she was 
willing to give him. He secured two — a waltz 
and a two-step, but lie could not persuade her 
to give him more, if for no other reason than 
that she felt it would be unfair to the men who 
had been so kind to her throughout her visit. 
“But,” she said, laughingly, “if you should 
discover that I am in danger of being a wall- 
flower, I am quite willing you should rescue me. 
I can think of no more dreadful fate.” He did 
not feel that gave him much cause for hope, but 
he said he would take her at her word ; and 
when the night of the dance arrived, he would 
not fill his card until he had seen hers. 


264 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


It was as lie feared — all taken, even down to 
the long string of extras, which there was little 
hope would be danced, but he saw she had 
written his name for the second waltz and the 
last two-step on the regular program, and 
thanked her. And when their waltz came the 
music was so entrancing, and their steps suited 
each other so perfectly, he could have wished it 
might go on forever, and was half inclined to 
rebel when it ended so soon. It proved to be his 
only dance with her, too, for when it came time 
for his two-step, and he hunted her up, he found 
her in a tete-a-tete room with one of the New 
York men he was inclined to feel especially 
jealous of. The young man made a hasty adieu 
when Mr. Hamilton came up, and he noticed 
Lois looked pale and tired. He had been look- 
ing forward eagerly to that dance ever since the 
first one ended, but when he saw how pale she 
looked, he said, “ You are tired, Miss Darcy ; 
would you rather stay where you are than 
dance ?” 

“ If you don’t mind,” said Lois ; “ I 

am tired,” and something in her manner made 
Mr. Hamilton think that “that fellow Howe” 
had been saying something disagreeable. He 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


265 


could not question her, of course; but he sat 
down near her and devoted himself to making 
her forget it, whatever it might be ; and he had 
the satisfaction of seeing her manner, which 
had been distrait and embarrassed at first, 
gradually return to its natural brightness. And 
he was not sure but it was better than dancing, 
to be sitting there, talking so quietly with her, 
in that flower-embowered room, and she looking 
like the Queen of the Flowers in her dress of 
shimmering pink. 

Mrs. Baker and a young man came in to- 
gether and interrupted their tete-a-tete ; the 
young man to claim Lois for his dance, the first 
of the extras, and Mrs. Baker to propose that as 
she and Margaret were to return to college the 
next day, and it was already late, they should 
go home. Lois was glad to go, although she 
expressed a suitable regret to the disappointed 
young man. Then Mrs. Baker turned to Mr. 
Hamilton, and offered him the extra seat in the 
carriage, and, of course, he accepted it gladly ; 
and as the ride was a long one, he saw more of 
Lois than he had seen in his whole New York 
visit. 

The next day the two girls returned to Nor- 


266 


HEK COLLEGE DAYS 


wood, and Mr. Hamilton liad Mrs. Davis’s per- 
mission to accompany them. It was a pleasant 
little trip, with Mr. Hamilton to look after them 
and entertain them, and it made a pleasant 
ending of the holidays, Lois and Margaret 
both thought. 

They were all over now, and Lois was hard at 
work at her studies, and practicing for the Glee 
Club concert. That was the great event of the 
spring term, and one of the rare occasions on 
which they could invite men ; and, of course, 
Lois had invited Mr. Hamilton and Mr. 
Beach er. 

It had seemed to Lois that the spring would 
never come. Accustomed to the early flowers 
and foliage and warm, sunny spring weather of 
her home, she could hardly be patient through 
the bleak and chilly days that made her long 
for St. Mark’s. But the spring came at last 
suddenly. Almost in a day they sprang from 
the bareness and bleakness of winter to full 
leafage and balmy air. It was the miracle of 
the northern spring that Lois had never seen 
and was not prepared for. It was the kiss of 
the Sun-god, Sigurd, waking into sudden life the 
sleeping earth, Brunhild. Into new life, 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


267 


too, the girls of Gale, who spent every after- 
noon from four to six and all the half holidays 
in long tramps through the woods in search of 
flowers, or on the hills for the lovely arbutus, or 
in rowing and tennis. Every evening now from 
six-thirty to seven the Glee Club was practicing — 
every evening but Tuesday, when the College 
prayer-meeting met, and Lois would not have 
failed to be present there, for that was one of 
the things her mother had talked to her about 
on that last night in Norwood ; and while relig- 
ious feeling was hardly yet fully awake in Lois, 
religious principle was strong within her. 
There was plenty of good, hard study, too, in the 
spring term, and with her two hours of practice 
in music every day, Lois found her time fully 
occupied. She liked it, though ; she liked to 
feel she had something for every minute; it 
made the days rush by so fast ; and as a part of 
it was good, wholesome exercise, she was not 
suffering in health. 

There were two surprises in store for Lois on 
the night of the concert, one of them was pleas- 
ant — a great bunch of Catherine Mermet roses 
from Mr. Hamilton; the other she did not en- 
joy. She had dashed off one evening a few 


268 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


rhymes as a parody on “ When the Matin Bells 
are Ringing.” They suggested themselves irre- 
sistibly to her, and she put them down. Miss 
Felton, the leader of the Glee Club, seized upon 
them, saying they would sing them at the con- 
cert. Lois did not object to that ; she was rather 
proud Miss Felton should think them good 
enough; but she was very much disconcerted 
when they appeared on the program with her 
name attached. She knew they were silly 
rhymes, and she did not care to claim their 
authorship, but there they were, written out in 
full: 

When the matin bell is ringing, Ah me, 0, Ah me, 0, 
From my iron bedstead springing, Ah me, 0, Ah me, 
More than half asleep, loudly yawning, 

Much inclined to weep, day is dawning, 

To my room-mate sadly sighing, Ah me, O, Ah me, 

For those dragons drear, Greek and Latin, 

Loom up large and near, in the matin, 

Hope within me lies a-dying, Ah me, 0, Ah me ! 


When the day in closing o’er us, Uralio, TJralio, 
And our spreads are all before us, Uralio, Urali, 
When we one and all, quit our reading, 

And adown the hall, odors leading, 

Sweetly to Welsh rarebit bear us, Uralio, Uralio, 
Where the merry maids with golden tresses, 

Where no “prod” invades, savory messes 
Out of toast and cheese prepare us, Uralio, Urali ! 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


269 


And there were Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Beaclier, 
she could see by peeping from behind the scenes, 
sitting only two or three rows from the front, 
reading the verses together and laughing over 
them. Lois felt her cheeks flame scarlet. 

The members of the Glee Club were all in 
white, and they made a very pretty picture as 
they filed on the stage, each wearing the flow- 
ers that pleased her, or that had been sent her. 
Lois wore Mr. Hamilton’s roses, and she caught 
his eye as she entered. He slightly waved his 
program in salute, and she smiled a little in 
response. After that she tried not to see him, 
lest it should disconcert her, and she wanted 
to attend strictly to business. “ The Matin 
Bells” was loudly encored. Lois was sure it 
was Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Beacher doing it out 
of compliment to her, and not because it was 
good, and did not want to respond; but Miss 
Felton insisted that the cutest part of the song 
was in the encore. Lois had written it as a 
second chorus, to be repeated after the last verse, 
and Miss Felton had saved it for the encore, which 
she was sure would come. So they went out and 
repeated the last stanza, only, instead of “ Ura- 
lio,” etc., they sang as a chorus : 


270 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Happy me, 0, happy me. 

Come to tea, 0, come to tea ! 

Finishing with one girl saying, not singing,“And 
chocolate !” Another added, “ And Welsh rare- 
bit !” A third, “ And plowed field!” And a 
fourth, “ Or fudges !” When they all joined in 
together again : 

Happy me, 0 happy me, 

Come to tea, O, come to tea ! 

For such silly words it did produce an astonish- 
ing effect, quite bringing down the house, though, 
as Lois said afterward, when some one compli- 
mented her on the authorship, “ Oh ! it was all 
in the singing, not at all in the words. I think 
the girls did sing it well.” 

After “ The Matin Bells,” came Lois’s solo. 
Mr. Hamilton leaned a little forward as she 
stepped out from the line of girls in white. 
She was apparently quite calm and self-possessed, 
but there was a flickering color in her cheeks, 
that were otherwise paler than usual, and her 
eyes were like stars — signs that Mr. Hamilton 
had already learned were tokens of great excite- 
ment with her. It was strange he had never 
heard her sing alone ; he had heard her sing 
college songs on Mt. Hoary head and on the 



LOIS STEPPED OUT FROM THE LINE OF GIRLS 
(See page 270) 




THE GLEE CLUB CON" CERT 


271 


sleigh-rides, and hymns in her mother’s sitting- 
room and at ves2>ers, but always with others. 
He had not failed to notice and admire the pure, 
sweet quality of her voice, but it had been a 
great surprise to him to see her name on the 
program for a solo. She had always seemed 
so young and girlish, and he trembled for her, 
imagining her tremors as she came before that 
great audience, and fearing it might overcome her. 
The song was a pretty little Polish love song — 
“Were I the Sunlight,” in waltz time. There 
was a “ zum-la-la ” accompaniment by the rest 
of the Club, that had several bars to itself before 
Lois began. She stood in a half-listening atti- 
tude, her head slightly thrown back, the round, 
white throat, the flower-like head poised upon it, 
rising above a billow of soft lace. In her hands, 
crossed lightly in front of her, she held one of 
Mr. Hamilton’s roses. Just at the right moment 
of the accompaniment, her voice struck in, clear, 
full, rich, without a tremor. Mr. Hamilton’s 
tension insensibly relaxed. He had no fears 
now ; he could give himself up to the enjoyment 
of listening. There was a vibrating, violin 
quality in the middle register of Lois’s voice 
that produced the effect of infinite tenderness 


272 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and pathos in the simple words, while the 
higher notes soared clear and sweet as the song 
of the skylark. It was wonderful for a mere 
girl, and the apjdause was unremitting, until it 
was evident she would respond to the encore. 
Lois herself was startled and half frightened ; 
she had not expected such a demonstration ; and 
the first notes of the encore were a little tremu- 
lous. There was a humming accompaniment 
this time, very soft and sweet, as she sang : — 

“I feel thy presence ever ; thy spirit dwells with me, 

Where’er my eyes may wander, thy face in dreams I see, 
Sink’st thou in thought’s wide ocean, as sinks the western 
sun, 

So with the morn thou’lt rise, when night’s dark hours are 
done.” 

There was only that one stanza in the song ; 
but she repeated the last line, and when she 
came to “ hours,” instead of striking B-flat of 
the middle register, she soared up and dropped 
down lightly on B in alt, where she held the 
tone, clear, pure, sustained, until the whole house 
was breathless, when she dropped softly to the 
A and G j ust below. This time there was really 
no bounds to the delight of the audience, but to 
a repeated encore she responded only with her 
smile and bow, graceful and natural, but a little 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 2 73 

timid ; she had not yet learned stage manners. 
The congert closed with “ Fair Gale,” ever the 
best beloved of songs in that audience, and 
always sure of a royal welcome. Friends 
crowded around Lois, glowing with praise and 
congratulations, until she would not have been 
mortal if her heart had not swelled with some- 
thing very like pride. Mr. Hamilton was among 
the first to approach her, but he only said: 
“ May I walk over to the Harvey with you when 
you are ready to go ?” And at her smile and nod 
he drew back and let the others crowd around 
her. On the way over, he said : “ You must let 
me thank you for the very great pleasure you 
have given me to-night.” 

“ Do you know,” said Lois, “ what I was think- 
ing all the time I was singing? If mamma 
could only be there to hear me. And I sang the 
words right to her : 

“ Were I a bird, love, I would be softly trilling, 

Ever thy heart with tender love notes thrilling.” 

He was glad to hear Lois say that ; there was 
nothing he liked in her more than her love and 
loyalty to her mother; and yet he had hoped he 
might have had just a little part in that song. 
He saw now how utterly foolish his hopes were ; 

18 


274 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


but he answered gravely, “ I have no doubt she 
was there in spirit.” 

“ I felt just as if she was,” said Lois, and once 
I almost thought I saw her, sitting just behind 
you. It gave me a great start, for, for a moment, 
I was sure it was she, and she was looking at me 
with such sweet, sad eyes.” 

“And that reminds me,” said Mr. Ham- 
ilton, “ you must not let me forget to give you a 
letter I have in my pocket for you. I don’t 
know your mother’s writing, but it is postmarked 
‘St. Mark’s.’ I stopped at the office on the way 
to the concert, and as I knew a western mail had 
come in since the delivery, I took the liberty of 
inquiring for you.” 

“You are very kind,” said Lois; “it is not 
my day for a letter from mamma, but perhaps 
she thought she would send me an extra one on 
account of the concert.” 

But when Mr. Hamilton had extracted the 
letter from an inner pocket, it proved not to be 
from her mother, but from Mabel Colton. “It 
will have news of mamma,” said Lois, “and that 
will be almost as good.” 

Mr. Hamilton lingered a little jn the Harvey 
parlors; he wanted to talk to her about a 


THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT 


275 


party he was getting up the next week to go to 
Whitby Glen ; but the girls had crowded about 
her again, and Miss Belden, coming out of her 
room to congratulate Lois very sweetly indeed, 
at which Lois flushed with pleasure, he saw there 
was going to be no chance to see her, and so 
decided to write her about it instead. He found 
a chance, however, just before he left, to say to 
her: “I think I will write your mother an ac- 
count of the concert ; she might like to hear how 
it impressed one of the audience, an entirely 
unprejudiced listener.” 

And Lois answered him with shining eyes: 
“ Oh ! thank you ; I wish you would. I know 
how much pleasure it would give her.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARK’S 

The girls who had accompanied Lois to her 
room, and lingered to talk over the events of 
the evening, had all left her. She had taken 
off her pretty dress and laid it carefully away, 
with her gloves and slippers and fan, and had 
put on some comfortable bedroom slippers and a 
dressing-gown, and there was still time before 
ten o’clock to read her letter, thanks to the early 
hours at Gale. Carefully as Mabel had worded 
her letter, that Lois might not be too greatly 
alarmed, it struck terror to her heart at once. Her 
mother ill, too ill to write herself, and so ill that 
Dr. Colton advised her coming home as soon as 
she could conveniently — what could it mean? 
It seemed to Lois to mean the very worst possi- 
ble. There was no middle ground for her ; her 
apprehension, quickly aroused where her mother 
was concerned, had leaped over all moderate 
possibilities, and was picturing vividly to her 
alarmed consciousness the last dreadful stage. 

276 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARK’S 277 

For a few moments she sat motionless, frozen 
by the chill of terror, with wide-open, awful 
eyes, as one who saw the invisible, and was 
turned to marble by the sight. Then she real- 
ized that she must act quickly, if she hoped to 
reach that precious mother before it was too 
late; and instantly every faculty was keenly 
awake. Her heart turned at once to Margaret, 
as the one who could help her in the hour of 
need, and the event proved the justness of Mrs. 
Darcy’s estimate of her, when she had coveted 
her as a friend for Lois. 

When Margaret saw. the white, drawn look 
on Lois’s face as she entered, that seemed to 
change her at once from a child to a suffering 
woman ; she went to her swiftly and took her 
in her arms, as she said, “ My poor darling, 
what is it ?” 

Lois was shivering now, shaking so that she 
could only utter one word, “Mamma,” as she 
held the letter toward Margaret to read. 

Margaret glanced over it quickly, just enough 
to see the purport of it, then she turned again to 
the shivering girl: “ Lois, darling, you must not 
be so frightened. I do not believe she is so ill 
as you think, or they would have telegraphed you. 


278 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Now you must get over this chill the first thing, 
or you will not even be able to go to your mother. 
You must lie down on my divan, and I will 
cover you up warm, and go to Mrs. Scranton 
and get something for you. I will tell Miss 
Belden to come and see you, and she can help us 
decide what to do.” 

“ I think I know what to do, Margaret ; only 
help me to get over this chill, so that I can do 
it,” said Lois. 

And she meekly submitted to lie down and be 
covered up, while Margaret hurried away for 
help. Mrs. Scranton came herself, quickly fol- 
lowed by a maid with hot water and mustard ; 
and she was kindness itself, administering reme- 
dies, and preparing a foot-bath which she was 
sure would relieve the nervous tension. 

The rigors were already less severe and less 
frequent when Miss Belden came in, and her 
quiet way and tender words helped to complete 
the cure Mrs. Scranton had begun. “ Lois, 
dear,” she said, as she kissed her and took her 
hand, “you must not lose your courage; you 
will lose your strength if you do, and you will 
need it all for your mother.” 

She sat beside her on the divan with her arm 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARK’S 279 

close about her, and with the warmth and sup- 
port the bodily contact gave her, Lois soon grew 
quiet. 

“ How kind you all are to me,” she mur- 
mured gratefully, as Mrs. Scranton and Miss 
Belden together wrapped her feet in hot flannels, 
and covered her up warmly on the divan ; and 
then, suddenly missing Margaret, she inquired 
where she was. 

“ I sent her over to see the President,” said 
Miss Belden ; “ we both thought his advice and 
his permission would be necessary for any steps 
we might take. We also thought it was quite 
possible that you were not supplied with money 
for such a sudden journey, and unfortunately 
neither Margaret nor I had more than a dollar 
or two.” 

Lois crimsoned as she answered, “ I do 
not see why they did not send me money ; 
they must have forgotten it. Don't you think 
that looks as if they were greatly distressed, 
Miss Belden ?” 

But Miss Belden was not willing to put the 
worst construction on anything. “ It was very 
easy to forget that, when they were only think- 
ing of the main fact,” she said. 


280 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


Yet it was an unpardonable omission. Not one 
of them at home thought of it until the morning 
after the letter was sent; then it suddenly 
occurred to the doctor and he rushed down to 
the bank and sent Lois a check for twice the 
amount necessary, hoping it might reach her in 
time. 

Margaret came in in a few minutes, bringing 
with her the President ; and with him was his 
wife, who had insisted on coming to see if she 
could not do something for Miss Darcy. When 
Lois saw the lovely little woman, with the sweet, 
motherly face, whom she so much admired, but 
whom she knew only very slightly, she flushed 
and rose quickly to a sitting posture. Mrs. 
Seton sat down beside her, put her arms around 
her, and only said, “ My poor child !” But the 
kiss of one who was almost a stranger set free 
the tears ; for a few moments Lois rested her 
head on that motherly heart, and wept unre- 
strainedly. 

“ I would not try to stop her,” whispered 
Miss Belden ; “they are her first tears, and they 
will do her good.” 

Lois checked them herself very soon, and 
then the good doctor, who, like any only ordi- 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARKUS 281 

nary man, liad been embarrassed and constrained 
at the sight of tears, drew up a chair in front of 
her and, taking her hand in his, looked at her 
with those kind eyes that Lois always thought 
were almost the most beautiful she had ever 
seen, and said to her, “ My dear Miss Darcy, 
we are very sorry for you ; but we do not want 
you to feel there is no help for you anywhere in 
this time of trouble. We are all ready and 
eager to help you to the uttermost of our ability, 
and how much more able, and far more willing 
is your Heavenly Father ?” 

“ Oh ! I know, I know/’ murmured Lois, 
looking at him with swimming eyes. 

“Then, my dear Miss Darcy, just lay all your 
sorrow down. He will take it up and bear it 
for you. And I do not believe you have cause 
for such terrible apprehension. Remember the 
letter was written two days ago, and if there had 
been any alarming change for the worse, you 
would have had a telegram before this. Your 
mother is ill and needs you, and it is right you 
should go to her at once ; but you must go with 
a strong heart, if you are going to help her to 
get well ; and we all hope and believe that she 
will get well,” 


282 


HEK COLLEGE DAYS 


Lois’s lip was quivering, and the tears were 
ready to fall, and the doctor hurried on : 

“ I brought over the time-tables; you go by 
the C. & O., do you not ?” And he took a 
folder from his pocket. 

Lois managed to say “ Yes.” 

“Then we will look up your first train, and 
see that you are ready to take it.” 

“ I think there must be one that goes early in 
the morning,” said Lois, “ to connect with the 
Limited at St. Albans, and it will get me into 
St. Mark’s by the evening of the day after to- 
morrow.” 

“ Yes,” he said, “ it goes through Somerfield 
at nine o’clock ; you will have to take the seven- 
thirty train from here to catch it, and you will 
have a little over three-quarters of an hour in 
Somerfield. And now it is late, and you will 
want to commence your packing immediately. 
Mrs. Scranton, will you send the janitor to bring 
Miss Darcy’s trunks to her room ? And will you 
see that she has something nice and hot for break- 
fast at about a quarter before seven ? And as she 
will be up late to-night, I think it will do her 
good to have a cup of tea and a little lunch now. 
She has been through a great strain this evening. 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARK S 


283 


And now about money,” he said. “ I do not 
suppose you have much with you.” 

Lois tried to say she could not understand why 
they had not sent her money, but he interrupted 
her. 

“ Oh ! I understand perfectly ; they simply 
did not think of it. But I think I shall be able 
to supply your needs. If you were not starting 
so early in the morning there would be no trouble, 
of course. Can you tell me what it costs to go to 
St. Mark’s?” 

Then Lois told him the cost of the ticket and 
the sleeper. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I think we can manage 
that,” and he took out a roll of bills. 

Lois was feeling painfully embarrassed that 
she should be obliged to call upon others for 
money to get home. 

The doctor noticed it, and said : “ You must 
not feel at all uncomfortable, Miss Darcy ; it is 
only what I would be glad to do for any one of 
my girls at such a time. I should not hesitate 
to call upon you for a temporary accommodation 
if I happened to be in imperative need of it, and 
knew you could furnish it.” 

As he rose to go Lois very quietly and earnestly 


284 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


thanked him for all his kindness. He took her 
hand again and held it a minute, as he looked at 
her with that same beaming kindliness. “ I shall 
see you in the morning, Miss Darcy, and Mrs. 
Seton will stay with you now and help you, if 
you would like to have her.” 

But neither Miss Belden nor Margaret would 
hear to that ; that was their own special privi- 
lege, and Mrs. Seton, putting her arms again 
around Lois, said a few words to her that were 
so kind and comforting it almost seemed to her 
it was her mother saying them. 

The packing was all done ; Mrs. Scranton and 
Miss Belden were gone ; after seeing Lois safely 
in bed, only Margaret, who had settled herself 
very comfortably on Lois’s divan for the night, 
was left; the little single beds could not, by any 
possibility, be made to hold two. Lois sank at 
once into a heavy sleep, from which she woke in 
an hour and lay awake for the rest of the night, 
longing for the morning, that she might be on 
her way, and picturing to herself sad scenes that 
might at that moment be enacting in far St. Mark’s. 
At the earliest light she was up and moving 
softly about the room that she might not disturb 
Margaret. She was almost dressed before Mar- 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARKUS 285 

garet awoke. She was going to accompany Lois 
to Somerfield and see her on the C. & O. train, 
for which she had the President’s permission. 
Now she found she had to hurry to be ready. 
The janitor came in and strapped Lois’s trunks, 
and the maid came up to tell her breakfast was 
ready. She put the last things in her bag and 
turned to leave the little room she had entered 
nearly five months ago in tears, and was leaving 
now with a heavy heart. Margaret and Miss 
Belden took breakfast with her, and urged her, 
if possible, to eat, and she did try her best. At 
the station Dr. Seton was waiting for them, and 
he bought the tickets, attended to her trunks, and 
tried to send her off cheerfully. Poor Lois! 
she appreciated so much all that her kind friends 
were doing for her, and yet her heart was so full 
she did not know how to express her appre- 
ciation. 

Just as they were ready to get on the train, 
Mr. Hamilton came up. He was startled to see 
Lois evidently going away, and Dr. Seton and 
Miss Belden down to see her off ; but when he saw 
her face he was shocked. Margaret whispered 
a word of explanation to him, and, in his quiet 
way, he took it all in at once, and went about 


286 


HEE COLLEGE DAYS 


making himself as useful as possible. He was 
just taking the train for New Haven, to meet a 
friend at Yale, and so would accompany Lois 
and Margaret as far as Somerfield. Miss Belden 
introduced Mr. Hamilton to Dr. Seton, who 
looked at him a little suspiciously, but made no 
open objection to his accompanying them to 
Somerfield, although he refused the young man’s 
offer to relieve him of Lois’s bag, and himself 
saw her on board the train and comfortably seated, 
and said a last kind word to her. 

As the train pulled out, and the President and 
Miss Belden walked up the street toward the 
college, he said : 

“ Who is that young Hamilton ? Do you 
know him ?” 

“ Oh ! yes,” said Miss Belden, “ and like him 
very much. He is a Houghton man.” 

“But how does he happen to be going to 
Somerfield this morning with Miss Darcy ?” 

“Why that, I fancy, is pure accident. He 
was over to attend the concert last night, and I 
understand he is going to New Haven this morn- 
ing. He is thoroughly trustworthy, I am sure, 
and his only fault is that I am afraid he is very 
fond of Lois.” 


A LETTER FROM ST. MARKUS 287 

“ Is that a fault ?” 

“ Oh ! yes, Lois is too young to have anybody 
in love with her.” 

“ Lois — what an odd name,” said the doctor, 
musingly. “And how beautiful she looked last 
night, and how well she sang. Poor little girl ! 
the world looks dark to her this morning. God 
grant her strength for the worst, if it must come, 
but spare her the worst, if it is His will,” and 
Miss Belden said softly, “Amen !” 


CHAPTER XX 


A LONG JOURNEY 

When Mr. Hamilton returned from helping 
Miss Belden off the car (she had come in to say a 
last word to Lois), he felt a little embarrassed. 
He was not quite sure Lois would want him to 
come and sit with them, and yet he wanted to very 
much. She had not spoken a word to him this 
morning ; she had only given him her hand 
silently in answer to his greeting, and it was 
hard to interpret her silence. Was she unable 
to speak, or did she mean to intimate she would 
like to be left alone ? He went forward, and 
stood by the seat they were occupying. He would 
try to discover if it would be disagreeable to her 
to have him with her. They were in a double 
seat ; the two girls seated side by side on one, and 
Lois’s bag and umbrella on the other. Lois was 
sitting with her head turned from him, looking 
out of the window. He spoke to Miss Baker. 

“ How long will you have to wait in Somer- 
field before the C. & O. train comes ?” 

288 


A LONG JOURNEY 


289 


Margaret looked up at him, and before she 
answered his question, said: “ Won’t you sit 
down, Mr. Hamilton ?” moving Lois’s bag as she 
spoke, to make room for him. 

He hesitated a moment, waiting for some sign 
from Lois, and Lois insensibly perceiving it, 
turned and met his glance. 

“ Would you like to have me, Miss Darcy?” 

“ Very much,” she said simply, and then, as 
he sat down, and Margaret answered his ques- 
tion, Lois turned again to her window. She was 
watching the views as they slipped by her, and 
thinking of the day when she and her mother 
had first seen them together from that same car 
window. Especially she was watching Mt. 
Hoaryhead and Mt. Ben gliding away from 
them in stately curves, and wondering if she 
would ever see them again, and with her mother 
by her side. She was glad Mr. Hamilton was 
there to entertain Margaret; now she felt she 
need not talk ; she could look and think all she 
wanted to. She knew Mr. Hamilton was going 
to New Haven ; he would go right on in the same 
train, she supposed. She would like to tell him 
one thing before he left them, that if he had not 
brought her that letter last night she would not 
19 


290 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


have received it until this morning — too late to 
catch the fast train, and it would have made 
nearly twenty-four hours’ difference in her reach- 
ing home. She would like him to know how he 
had helped her, but she was afraid to trust her 
voice to speak to him about it. Several times 
on the way to Somerfield she turned from the 
window and joined in the conversation a little. 
She thought she ought to be polite, and every 
time she met in Mr. Hamilton’s eyes such a kind, 
strong look, as if he was saying, almost as plainly 
as if in words, “ I am so sorry for you, and I 
would help you bear it if I could.” 

In Somerfield they all got out, and Lois stopped 
at the waiting-room door, and turned to say 
good-bye to Mr. Hamilton ; but he said, quickly, 
“ I am not going on to New Haven ; I will be here 
till you go.” Lois tried to remonstrate with him, 
that he must not lose his train on her account, 
but she made no impression ; he only said, “ I 
can take a train at any time.” He found some 
seats for them in the waiting-room, and then 
went off to buy Lois’s ticket to St. Mark’s, check 
her trunks, and engage her sleeper. 

“ I am glad he is here,” said Margaret, as he 
walked away ; “ it is very comfortable to have a 


A LONG JOUBNEY 


291 


man about when you are traveling. Isn't it 
odd, this is the second time he has traveled with 
us. I begin to feel as if he was a big brother. 
I like him so much, Lois.” 

“ Do you ?” said Lois, innocently. “ So do I, 
and so does mamma, and I believe Miss Belden 
does too. I guess everybody does.” 

“And since he is here, Lois, if you don't 
mind, I think I will take the 8.50 train back to 
Norwood, instead of waiting until 10.50. It 
will be only ten minutes before you leave, and 
Mr. Hamilton will see you on board the train.” 

“ Oh ! yes, Margaret dear ; I would not have 
you wait here alone for two hours just to see me 
off. I do not need any one. I will have my 
tickets and my checks, and it will be no trouble 
just to step aboard. Mr. Hamilton need not wait, 
either. Tell him so, Margaret, please.” 

“ I will, if you want me to, but I would rather 
know he was here to see you safely on your 
train. And then I know my telling him won't 
have any effect.” 

Mr. Hamilton came back with Lois's purse, 
and made his report, showing her where he had 
put her railroad tickets, where her sleeping-car 
ticket, and where her checks ; and then Mar- 


292 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


garet asked him to go with her to the ticket 
office to make some inquiries about some other 
trains. It was only a pretext ; she said as soon 
as they left Lois : “ You are going to be here 
until Lois’s train leaves ?” 

“ Yes,” he said, in a hesitating way. 

“ Then I am going back on the 8.50. It will 
save me two hours of waiting, and if you are 
with Lois, I shall feel perfectly comfortable 
about her.” 

He turned to her quickly. 

“ You are very good, Miss Baker. How can I 
thank you ?” 

“ Am I ?” she said, with a little smile. “ But 
why ?” 

He could not tell her, of course, but he said, 
“ You are so good that I will tell you what I 
would like to do — what I am desperately 
tempted to do. I cannot endure the thought of 
Miss Darcy taking that long journey alone. 
Did you ever see such a look in any one’s eyes ? 
I tell you her heart is breaking, and to be entirely 
alone with that awful sorrow, it is cruel to allow 
it.” 

“ Oh ! I know, Mr. Hamilton, and my heart 
aches when I think of her. If you could have 


A LONG JOURNEY 


293 


seen her last night” — and then she told him a 
little of the suffering Lois had been through. 
“But what can we do,” she finished. He 
had listened intently, with a determined look in 
his eyes. 

“ Do ?” he said ; “ I shall go to St. Mark's 
with her. She need not look at me or speak to 
me if she does not want to, but I shall be near 
her to watch her and help her if she needs it.” 

“ Oh ! but Mr. Hamilton, that is impossible,” 
Margaret spoke quickly. 

“ I know what you would say ; there are the 
proprieties to be considered, though sometimes I 
wish — ” he did not finish his sentence. “ No one 
need ever know that I have gone but you and 
her. I shall see her in a carriage for home 
when we reach St. Mark’s, and take the next 
train back. Don’t you think, Miss Baker, 
there is sometimes a higher law than the pro- 
prieties ?” 

“ Yes, but — ’’Margaret was hesitating. He 
was so vehement it was difficult to say anything. 
“ If — if — you were only — her brother.” 

His face flushed a deep crimson. “ I know 
what you are thinking, and would that I were. 
But do you think I would intrude myself or my 


294 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


hopes at such a time? It would be cruel, 
besides being very poor policy/’ he added, with 
a half smile. “ She has no thought for any 
one but her mother; and then, too, she is very 
young and away from her mother. I have 
always remembered that, and tried never to say 
a word to her that she would think was more 
than friendly. It has been hard work, some- 
times, and I am afraid I have been almost too 
successful ; I don’t want to be lumped with all 
her other friends, as just a nice fellow, those 
New York men and the rest ; but I am afraid 
I am.” 

He had been hurrying her along toward the 
town, as they talked, and now he stopped in front 
of a fruit store. 

“Will you wait here a minute?” he said. 
“ I want to get her some fruit.” 

With a quick hand, and a tone that made the 
man in charge fly to do his bidding, in five 
minutes he had selected and filled a basket with 
fine, juicy oranges, a few russet apples, some 
bananas, and a pretty paper box of strawber- 
ries, imported from the south, but large, sweet, 
and luscious. 

“Now,” he said, as he received the basket, 


A LONG JOURNEY 


295 


“ we must hurry back. We have left Lois a 
long time alone.” 

Margaret did not remark on the use of her 
name. She did not think he knew he had used 
it. She was not quite satisfied with their con- 
versation, however, and she returned to it. 

“ Mr. Hamilton, Lois asked me to tell you 
you must not wait for her train. She could 
easily go on board alone.” 

“ Did she?” he said, looking straight ahead. 

“ Yes, and do you suppose she would let you 
go to St. Mark’s?” 

“ Oh ! no ; I never supposed so for an instant ; 
but I shall not ask her,” looking down at her 
with a smile in his blue eyes. 

“ Well, then, I wash my hands of it all. I 
do not see that I can help it, and I am glad that 
there will be somebody to take care of Lois; 
and do try to make her eat ; I don’t believe she 
has eaten or slept a thing since she received that 
letter.” 

“ It shall be my first duty to try to make her 
sleep something, and eat an hour or two,” he 
replied, gravely. 

Margaret laughed. “I am just like my 
grandmother; she was always twisting every- 


296 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


thing. She said to my Uncle Harry once, 
when she thought he was not showing her 
sufficient respect and gratitude, ‘ Oh ! sharper 
than a serpent’s child to have a thankless 
tooth !’ and then was indignant when we all 
laughed.” 

They had walked so fast that Margaret was 
all out of breath when she came back to Lois. 
Mr. Hamilton was not with her. He had 
stopped to put his basket of fruit in the parcel 
room. “I did not mean to be gone so long ; 
have you been lonely, Lois ?” 

“ No, I have not been lonely, but it is a long 
time to wait, when you are in such a hurry to 
get on. Where is Mr. Hamilton, Margaret ? 
Did you tell him not to wait, and is he gone ? 
I wanted to see him and thank him and say 
good-bye.” 

“ No, he has not gone,” said Margaret, “ he 
insists on waiting for your train.” 

She did not say how much more he insisted 
upon, she would let him manage that for him- 
self. 

He came up presently to say, “ Your train 
is coming, Miss Baker. I will see you on board.” 
Then the good-byes had to be said, and at the 


A LONG JOURNEY 


297 


last moment, Lois clung to Margaret. It seemed 
to her like letting go her last support. The 
next two days were a black and awful gulf she 
was plunging into alone. “Oh! if she could 
only go with me !” she thought, but would not 
say it. She held her tightly a moment, and 
whispered, “ Good-bye. If I never see you 
again, I will always love you.” 

“ Oh ! little sister, don’t say that. You will 
be back next fall, and your mother with you.” 

The tears were running down Margaret’s face, 
and even after she was seated in the car she could 
not quite control them; and there was a mist 
in Mr. Hamilton’s blue eyes as he grasped her 
hand and said good-bye. He took a hasty turn 
up and down the platform before he came back 
to Lois ; but when he did come in, he thought 
he had never seen a more desolate looking little 
figure. She seemed to feel as if her last friend 
had left her. 

He came in with a smile. “ I am going to 
ask you to walk up and down the platform 
with me until time for your train. You will 
be shut up, with no chance for air or exercise for 
two days ; and I think it will do you good to 
get both now,” 


298 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


She rose immediately, her forlorn look 
a little lightened. It was a clear, cool morning 
for May, almost a hint of frost in the air, 
and Mr. Hamilton was glad to see a little color 
come into her face, and a little brightness into 
her eyes as they walked. As for him, sincerely 
sorry as he felt for her, and his big heart ached 
with sympathy, there was, besides, a feeling of 
exultant joy. For the first time in his acquain- 
tance, he had her entirely to himself. She was 
his for a little while. She would have no one 
but him to look to for comfort and help, and it 
gave him an exquisite sense of ownership and 
protection as he looked down on the little figure 
in the pretty blue skirt and jacket, and the in- 
evitable, but becoming, shirt-waist and sailor 
hat. 

His courage had failed him when he came to 
buy his ticket. After all, he had no right to 
inflict himself on Lois, if it should prove to be 
disagreeable, much as she might need him. So 
he took a ticket only for St. Albans, hoping that 
before they should get there, he would have 
convinced her of the necessity and perfect pro- 
priety of his accompanying her all the way to 
St. Mark's. Besides his feeling that Lois was 


A LONG JOURNEY 


299 


in no condition for so long a journey without 
some one near to help and comfort her, he had 
the southern idea of the danger and impropri- 
ety of a young girl traveling unattended, and 
also a Southerner’s lack of appreciation of the 
convenances that would have forbidden a 
Northern man from thinking of offering him- 
self as escort. 

Their train drew up, and he helped Lois 
aboard, and found her seat for her in the sleeper. 
He sat down beside her a moment, noticing with 
another delightful feeling of isolation how the 
high-backed seats shut them off from the rest of 
the car almost as completely as if they had been 
in a separate compartment, and noticing also 
how few other passengers were aboard. The 
heavy western travel had evidently not yet set 
in. He went out in a few minutes and returned 
just as the train was starting, with his basket of 
fruit and a bundle of magazines and papers. 
He put them down beside Lois, and she looked 
up at him in surprise. 

“ What a beautiful basket of fruit ! Is it all 
for me ?” 

“All for you, unless you should feel inclined 
to give me some/’ and he settled himself in the 


300 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


seat opposite, with the air of one intending to 
stay. 

She looked at him wonderingly, not compre- 
hending him at all ; and then, observing that the 
train was moving almost imperceptibly, she said, 
quickly, “We are moving, Mr. Hamilton. Oh ! 
hurry, please, or you will be carried on.” 

The moment had come, and he must take his 
courage in hand; so bracing himself inwardly, 
he said, with as indifferent an air as he could as- 
sume, “I intend to be carried on. You do not 
mind, do you ?” 

But the look of terror with which Lois said, 
“Oh ! yes ; please hurry, Mr. Hamilton ; it isn’t 
too late; you can get off yet if you try,” made 
him half repent of his rashness. 

In her eagerness she had put her hand on his 
arm as if to push him away. It was no caress- 
ing gesture, but he liked to feel it there. Their 
seat was at the rear near the state-room, and be- 
hind Lois was a mirror that commanded the 
whole length of the car. He glanced up in it. 
There was no one seated near them, and no one 
looking their way ; every back was turned. He 
boldly took the little gloved hand that was still 
unconsciously pushing him in his, and held it 


A LONG JOURNEY 


301 


firmly while he said : “ Listen to me a moment, 
Miss Darcy. If you look out of the window you 
will see that I leave the train now at the risk of 
my life ; but that is nothing. If you say so I am 
willing to take the risk. Shall I ?” 

Lois glanced hurriedly out and saw that they 
were already moving rapidly. a Oh! no, no!” 
she said, struggling to release her hand ; “but 
why did you stay ?” 

“ I will tell you, if you will listen quietly,” 
he said, by which he must have meant, “ if you 
will let your hand lie quietly in mine,” for other- 
wise she was perfectly still. “You believe I am 
your very sincere and very true friend ; do you 
not?” 

“Yes,” said Lois, in a half whisper, as he 
evidently waited for an answer. 

“You believe there is nothing a brother 
could do for a sister that I would not do for 

y° u ?” 

“ Yes,” again, very faintly. 

“ Now, do you suppose if you were really my 
little sister I could let you go off alone on such 
a long journey, with your heart so full of sor- 
row, and my own almost breaking with sym- 
pathy for you ?” 


302 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


“ Bat what would Dr. Seton say ?” said Lois, 
still half under her breath. 

“I know what you are thinking; you are 
thinking that if Dr. Seton knew that I was with 
you, he would think it was an arranged plan, and 
that you were betraying his trust.” 

“ Yes,” said Lois, “ and I could not bear to 
have him think that, he is so good and kind.” 

“Well, in the first place, I do not think that 
Dr. Seton will ever know anything about it, 
unless you would like to have me write to him 
and explain it, which I am quite willing to do; 
and in the second place, I think, if he knew, he 
would be very glad that you were to have a friend 
with you to take care of you, and see you safely 
home.” He added the last words with a purpose. 
They were intended as a feeler. Lois was ter- 
rified again. 

“You are not going all the way to St. 
Mark’s?” 

“Not if you will not let me. I want to go 
very much; I have taken my ticket only for St. 
Albans, but I hope before we reach St, Albans 
you will decide to let me go all the way with 
you. We will not discuss it now, please,” he 
said, quickly, as she began a decided refusal. 


A LONG JOUKNEY 


303 


He had kept a strict watch on the mirror, and 
he saw the conductor enter the other end of 
the car and come toward them, and he gently 
released her hand. “And now,’’ he said, “ shall 
I go or stay ? I can get off at the next stop, you 
know.” 

“ You may stay, if you like,” said Lois 
timidly, “as far as St. Albans.” 

“ Thank you. You have been generous, and 
I will try to be too. I have a seat somewhere in 
this car,” looking around, and then, with the air 
of making a discovery, “Oh! it is Number Two, 
just opposite. Now, if it will be pleasanter for 
you, I will leave you to yourself ; or if my seat is 
too near I will go forward into the smoking com- 
partment; but I will be at hand if you need me 
for anything.” 

He made a movement as if to go ; but waited 
nevertheless. 

“ Do you want to smoke ?” asked Lois. 

“No, I don’t smoke; but I don’t want to 
bother you.” 

“ Then I would rather you would stay here. I 
like to feel that — ” She started to say, “ you are 
near me,” but changed it hastily to “ some one 
I know is near me,” and then she received from 


304 


HEft COLLEGE LAYS 


those kind blue eyes a rare smile that she had 
seen in them once or twice before, and it had 
always set her pulses to fluttering — a smile of 
thanks, of protection, of something else, she 
didn’t quite know what. 

“And now,” he said, “ since you give me per- 
mission to take care of you — ” 

“ I did not know that I had,” she interrupted, 
with a little of her old sauciness, and he hailed 
it as a sign of returning spirits. 

“Certainly,” he continued, “ but don’t inter- 
rupt, please ; since you have requested me to look 
after your material comforts, I recommend that 
you try your strawberries at once. I hear that 
you have eaten no breakfast, and that is a bad 
way to begin a long journey.” 

He went forward somewhere, and returned in 
a few minutes with a cup of sugar to dip her 
berries in. 

“ But you will eat some, too,” she said, 
“ remember you asked me to give you some.” 

“ That will necessitate another cup.” 

“ I will make you one and give you a part of 
my sugar; haven’t you an envelope in your 
pocket ?” 

He put his hand in his pocket and drew out 


A LONG JOURNEY 


305 


an envelope, which he hastily returned, but not 
before Lois had recognized her own writing. 
She had never written him but one note, and 
that was long ago, about the sleigh-ride — very 
long ago, indeed, it seemed to Lois, and he was 
still carrying it with him. She blushed a little, 
and he, watching for a sign that she had seen 
the note, saw the blush and knew that she had 
recognized it ; and he was not sorry. He took 
out another envelope, a business one that he 
had received the day before, and she fashioned 
a little cup out of it, and they ate their berries 
together — Lois rather surprised to find that she 
could eat; but the luscious fruit with its slight tart- 
ness was very refreshing. With the pleasant talk 
that accompanied it, she found her spirits were 
insensibly rising, and she reproached herself 
that anything could divert her for even a 
moment from her great sorrow. But Mr. 
Hamilton was very much afraid of making 
himself tiresome, and so losing his chance of 
going all the way to St. Mark’s. He thought it 
wise, therefore, after awhile, to leave her to 
herself for a little, and taking one of the maga- 
zines, he went forward to the smoking compart- 
ment, and tried to read. He found it hard 
20 


306 


HE U COLLEGE HAYS 


work; there was always before his eyes the 
little figure in the other part of the car. She 
had taken off her hat after entering the car, 
and he could see on the printed page before him 
the drooping head with its thick waves of 
bronze gold hair, the sorrowful dark eyes, the 
pathetic curve that did not belong to the sweet 
mouth. After awhile he stopped trying to 
read ; he “ let himself go,” as he phrased it ; 
let himself feel the thrill of being near her, and, 
in a way, her protector ; and then he wondered 
if she would let him go all the way to St. 
Mark’s, whether he would be able to keep him- 
self thoroughly in hand, and never say a word 
that was more than friendly ; and then he found 
himself dreaming more daring dreams. It was 
the way to make time pass swiftly, and he was 
surprised when the porter came in and announced, 
“ First call to dinner; dinner now ready in the 
dining car.” He went back to Lois at once. 
He found her looking out of the car window with 
all the old sadness back again in her face, and 
he concluded it was not good for her to be alone. 

“ Dinner is ready,” he said, “ and we will go in 
at once; I think you must need something more 
substantial than strawberries by this time.” 


A LONG JOURNEY 


307 


He had followed close behind the porter, and 
she had not noticed him until he spoke. As she 
looked up startled, he saw there were tears in her 
eyes, but she was trying to dispose of them fur- 
tively with her handkerchief, and he seemed not 
to see them. 

Lois had intended to be as economical as pos- 
sible in her journey, and so had thought she 
would depend on little lunches, and not patronize 
the dining car ; besides feeling as if eating were 
not only an impossibility but a great impropriety 
in her present state of feeling. But she was em- 
barrassed. She did not feel like disclosing her 
economical motives, and so she only made a feeble 
protest that she was not hungry; but he very 
quickly overruled that objection, and when she 
found herself seated opposite him at the nicely 
appointed table, with the beautiful New England 
mountains and rivers gliding by the wide window 
at her side, she decided to indulge in the extrav- 
agance with a good grace. She liked to see him 
order the dinner ; she was not sure but that he 
had as much of the savoir faire as the New York 
men, when she saw what a dainty little menu he 
provided for her. And much to her surprise she 
found herself decoyed from one dainty little 


308 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


course to another, eating quite heartily, and she 
was inclined to feel a little remorse on the sub- 
ject, although she knew she felt the better for it. 
As they finished their dinner, nuts and all, she 
handed him her purse to pay for it, and he 
said : “ You will surely let me be your host, Miss 
Darcy ; you would not refuse a brother that little 
pleasure,” and she, not quite knowing what to do 
in such a case, blushed brightly, and meekly 
returned her purse to her pocket. 

Then they went back to their places in the 
sleeper, and he felt sorry it was a vestibuled 
train, so that she needed no steadying hand in 
crossing from one car to another. He sat down, 
this time beside her, and turned a little toward 
her, so that he shut her out from everybody else 
in the car. She had no idea where they were ; but 
he knew they were nearing St. Albans, and then 
he told her so, and asked her if she was willing 
now that he should go on farther with her. She 
was sorry to lose him ; he had comforted her 
greatly ; and she hesitated a little, but presently 
she said, without lifting her eyes, and very softly: 
“I would rather not; I do not believe mamma 
would like it.” 

He said nothing for a moment ; he was consid- 


A LONG JOUKNEY 


309 


ering whether he should urge it more ; but he 
decided it would not be manly, although he was 
a man who found it very hard to give up any- 
thing that he had set his heart upon. And she, 
fearing she had hurt him, looked up and said, 
shyly : “ But I am very sorry we are so near 
St. Albans.” 

And then he found it very hard indeed to keep 
from saying the words that were trembling on 
his lips, ready to burst from them if he should 
loosen that iron grip for a moment ; very hard 
not to catch the little hand that was lying so 
quietly in her lap, and ungloved now, and press 
it to his lips. He had to remind himself 
vigorously of his good resolutions, of the fact 
that she was so very young, and away from her 
mother. She thought him long in answering ; 
when he did answer, he said : “ You are very 
good to say you are sorry, and you know that to 
say your mother would not like it will always be 
potent with me. I will not worry you any more. 
I will go back from St. Albans.” 

Her brown eyes dropped again, not quite 
able to meet the look in the blue ones ; and she 
thought she ought to be glad he was not going 
any further than St. Albans, and reproached 


310 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


herself that she was not very glad. They were 
nearing East St. Albans, and he felt that the 
time was growing short. 

“ You will write me,” he said, “ a line, at 
least, to let me know how you find your 
mother, and of your own safe arrival ?” She 
thought she ought to do that, and readily 
promised. “ I hope and expect that you will be 
back in Norwood next fall ; but if you are not, I 
shall surely see you again. Remember, wherever 
you are in the wide world, I shall see you ; but it 
will make it much easier for me to find you, if 
you will once in awhile send me a little word to 
tell me where you are, and how you both are.” 
Then she promised that, too, a little bit fright- 
ened at his manner ; and then he went away to 
interview the porter, and returned, presently, 
and said : “We will be in St. Albans in a few 
minutes,” and dropped into his old seat beside 
her. “Miss Darcy, I am not as good a man as I 
would like to be, but I am a firm believer in God 
and Christianity ; and I have known moments 
when, but for the feeling that God was my 
Father, I should have been very wretched indeed. 
One of the very last things my mother ever gave 
me was a little book. She asked me to read it every 


A LONG JOURNEY 


311 


morning; I have not always done it ; but I have 
always carried it with me, and somehow, when 
I have been in perplexity or trouble or sorrow, 
that little book has always seemed to have a 
special message for me. I have coine to look 
upon it as a kind of magician, for the day’s 
readings always seem to have a special reference 
to the day’s need. I read the lesson this morn- 
ing when I was in the smoking-room, and as I 
read it, I thought of you. I am going to leave 
my little book with you ; I believe it will help 
you and comfort you; I want you to give it 
back to me some day, but not by mail, not until 
you can give it to me yourself.” 

He took out the little book from an inner 
pocket, and laid it in her hands. The train 
had come to a stop in the St. Albans’ station. 
It was dark ; he could only dimly see her face ; 
there was great confusion of passing in and out. 
He got up. “ I must go ; good-bye.” She gave 
him her hand, and he held it a moment ; then, 
with a quick, strong pressure he dropped it, 
whispered “ Heaven bless you !” and rushed from 
the car. She saw him once more as the train 
pulled out, standing on the platform and waving 
his hat to her. She waved her hand in response, 
and in a moment more she was whirled out of sight. 


CHAPTER XXI 


BACK TO LIFE 

The afternoon was fast waning. It had 
seemed interminable to Lois, sitting with her 
eyes fixed on the quiet scenery of the beautiful 
Mohawk, she was as one who sees not. Her 
thoughts for awhile had been with that strong, 
graceful figure on the platform, his fair hair un- 
covered, his blue eyes smiling, waving her a fare- 
well. She missed the cheer of his presence very 
much ; he had been so kind and thoughtful, and 
he was so big and splendid looking, and inspired 
her always with such a feeling of trust. 

But as the afternoon wore away she thought 
less of him and more of her mother. If she 
could only know how it was with her. Perhaps 
at this very moment there were messages with 
awful tidings for her, speeding over the very 
wires she was passing. And she could know 
nothing until she reached St. Mark’s, and her 
whole soul cowered as her vivid fancy pictured 
what might be awaiting her there. And then 
312 


BACK TO LIFE 


313 


tlie long night and day that still lay between her 
and St. Mark’s with no possibility of getting 
there one moment sooner. She was on one of 
the great New York Central flyers, but she felt 
as if they were creeping. Before she realized 
how far she was letting her imagination carry 
her, she was almost in an agony of terror and 
impatience and suspense. Then, suddenly she 
remembered Mr. Hamilton’s little book. She 
turned to the reading for the day, May 15th, 
and read the Bible text : “ My presence shall go 
with thee, and I will give thee rest.” And then 
she read the stanza below : 

“Thy presence fills my mind with peace, 

Brightens the thoughts so dark erewhile ; 

Bids cares and sad forebodings cease, 

Makes all things smile.” 

And then she read Jean Nicolas Grou’s com- 
forting words of 

“Martyrs, confessors, and saints, that have tasted this rest 
and counted themselves happy, in that they endured.” 

Lois read them and read them over again. 
Surely there was something almost weird in the 
book, that it should have on that very day the 
very message she needed. But what was that 
rest that could make them “ count themselves 


314 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


happy th a t they had endured”? It was some- 
thing that she knew nothing about; she had 
been trying to be a Christian now for several 
years; she was sure she loved God, and wanted 
to do right, but that was as far as her simple 
creed had gone. Could there be anything that 
could “ make all things smile ” for her now when 
she was so nearly broken-hearted ? “ Bid sad 

forebodings cease,” when her mind was full of 
most fearful visions ? Yet there evidently was a 
faith that could take hold on God in just that 
way. She could not understand and she did not 
feel strong enough to try to grasp it. She was 
not ready to pray that she might be able to en- 
dure with joy. She could only pray, “ Lord, 
save my mother !” There was written in pencil 
at the foot of the page, “Read also May 25th.” 
And she turned to it. It was Christ’s prayer in 
the Garden: “ If it be possible, let this cup pass 
from me ; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou 
wilt.” And beneath it Keble’s beautiful verse : 

“ O Lord, my God, do Thou Thy holy will, 

I will lie still ; 

I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm, 

And break the charm 

Which lulls me, clinging to my Father’s breast, 

In perfect rest.” 


BACK TO LIFE 


315 


And then there were some strong and helpful 
words by Butler, by Faber, and by Francis de 
Sales. There was a pencil line drawn under 
Francis de Sales’s : “ Lord, Thy will be done, in 
father, mother, child ; in everything and every- 
where.” Lois read them with eyes that could 
hardly see. She did not want to be resigned. 
She was not ready to say, “ Thy will be done,” 
but nevertheless, a little peace, a little rest, had 
come with the reading. She closed the book 
with a sigh and a prayer, this time for herself — 
“ Lord, help me.” 

The porter came in to ask her if she would 
go out to supper. He had been assiduous in his 
attentions all the afternoon, and it flashed across 
Lois’s mind that perhaps Mr. Hamilton had 
given him reason to be. She did not want to go 
into the dining car ; supper alone in there would 
be a dreary thing ; but she remembered that she 
was to try to keep up her strength, to be ready 
for whatever might be before her, and kind Mrs. 
Scranton had put up a little luncheon for her, 
and she would try to eat some of it, and some of 
Mr. Hamilton’s fruit. She got out her little 
box, and the porter, seeing her preparations, 
bustled up with a table for her and put a cloth 


316 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


over it. He tried to insist on her having a cup 
of tea or coffee, and when she declined both 
he went away and returned with a glass of milk, 
into which he must have emptied the cream-jug ; 
for it was a very different looking beverage from 
the ordinary buffet milk. She thanked him, and 
was about to pay him for it, when to her aston- 
ishment, he refused to receive it. 

“ With the compliments of the porter, miss,” 
he said, with shining teeth. 

Her first instinct was to insist on payment, 
but his smile and bow had so much of friendli- 
ness in it, that somehow it touched her lonely 
heart, and knowing that he probably had been 
already well paid, she thanked him again and 
accepted it. 

She found her fruit very refreshing, and it 
made her think again of Mr. Hamilton and all 
his kindness, and as the twilight came on, and 
she saw the stars come out that she knew were 
shining over Norwood and St. Mark’s, “ and 
Houghton,” she added in her thoughts blush- 
ingly, it seemed to give her a better idea of the 
All-Father, looking down on His children in all 
those places, never forgetting or losing sight of one 
of them, ready to help in every time of trouble. 


BACK TO LIFE 


317 


She had her berth made up early. It would 
be a comfort, she thought, to be shut in, and it 
would seem to put an end at last to that intermi- 
nable afternoon. She did not expect to sleep, 
and yet, no sooner had she put her head on the 
pillow than utter weariness overcame her, and 
though she woke frequently through the night, 
the motion of the car always lulled her to sleep 
again. She would have been glad if she could 
only have stayed in her berth all the way to St. 
Mark’s, in that semi-unconscious state, soothed 
by the rocking of the car to a kind of insensibil- 
ity. But day came, and finally she could lie 
there no longer. She knew by the noises in the 
car that the passengers were all up, and she her- 
self was wide awake, and conscious that she had 
passed in the night to a warmer clime ; for the 
sun, even through her drawn blind, was beating 
hotly down on her pillow. That was a long and 
terrible day to her. In looking back on it, she 
often wondered how she lived through it ; but it 
was over at last, and she knew by the converging 
railroads and the trains rushing from all direc- 
tions over the wild prairies toward one central 
point, that they were nearing St. Mark’s. Her 
heart began to beat so fast, it almost suffocated 


318 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


her. A sick feeling of apprehension made her feel 
faint. She wished now that she had sent word 
that she was coming, that there might be some 
one at the station to meet her. She had not 
done so on account of an indefinable feeling that it 
would be better for her mother not to be expect- 
ing her at any certain time, and waiting for the 
moments to pass. They were on the approach 
to the bridge now. She could see the familiar 
spires across the river, and the low, dun-colored 
cloud that always hung over the city. Then the 
transfer agent came and took her checks and 
gave her a ticket for her carriage. In a few 
moments they would be in the St. Mark’s station. 
The porter came and gathered up her traps. 
She was so faint and white that he noticed it, 
and with wonderful thoughtfulness in a porter, 
brought her a glass of water. She drank a little 
of it and felt better. The train stopped, and 
the porter, contrary to all traditions, carried her 
traps to the very door of the carriage. Mr. 
Hamilton’s tip must have been a generous one. 
The windows of the carriage were open, and the 
evening air revived her a little, as they rolled 
swiftly along over the asphalt into the western 
part of the city. They stopped in front of Dr. 


BACK TO LIFE 


319 


Colton’s door. One quick glance told Lois that 
the awful thing she had so dreaded might meet 
her eyes on the door was not there. With a 
sudden lifting of the heart, she sprang from the 
carriage and rang the bell softly. Nora answered 
the ring, and at the sight of Lois, white and 
eager, uttered a shriek that brought Dr. Colton 
and Mabel hurrying from the dining-room where 
they were at dinner. Mabel rushed upon her, 
and between joy and pity, excitement and sym- 
pathy, burst into tears as she hugged her and 
kissed her. Lois was greatly alarmed, and her 
face, already white, turned so deadly pale that 
Dr. Colton seeing it took her hand, and draw- 
ing her away from Mabel, said : 

“ Lois, my child, we are very glad to see you, 
and you must not let Mabel frighten you. She 
is hysterical with unexpected joy.” 

Lois’s faltering lips formed, but could not utter 
the word, “ mamma !” 

“ I think she is doing just as well as we could 
hope. You must come and sit down, my dear, 
and have a little dinner before you will be fit to 
see her.” And the doctor led her into the din- 
ing-room, and tried to take off her hat and 
cloak. 


320 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


But as he was clumsily attempting to dis- 
charge those hospitable duties Mrs. Colton came 
in from the sick-room, and as she deftly relieved 
the doctor of his awkward task, her greeting to 
Lois was warm and tender. 

“ She is sleeping, Lois,” she said, “ as she is 
most of the time, and you must not be fright- 
ened if she does not know you. She does not 
always know her friends.” 

“ I think, then, if she sleeping,” said Dr. Col- 
ton, “ it is a very good time for Lois to go in. 
She can sit down by the bedside, and when her 
mother wakes her glance will fall naturally upon 
her, and perhaps it will not be so great a shock. 
But, remember, Lois, you must be perfectly quiet 
and controlled, or I will not answer for the con- 
sequences. And you cannot go until you have 
eaten something.” 

Lois could not eat, but she drained, almost at a 
swallow, the cup of coffee Mabel brought her, as 
if she were taking a dose of medicine. With 
what trembling footsteps Lois mounted the stairs 
and entered that hushed room and with what 
an agony of spirit she saw the white form on the 
white bed, lying so still it seemed to Lois she 
must be already dead ! She sat down in the 


back to life 


321 


chair near the bed the doctor motioned toward, 
and he himself sat not far away. He wanted to 
be present at the meeting, for he could not but 
fear the shock. The trained nurse had stolen 
from the room and gone to dinner as they en- 
tered, and there they sat silent for a long time. 
It seemed to Lois that she sat for years, with her 
eyes never for one moment removed from that 
white face, so sadly and strangely like, and yet 
unlike, her idolized mother. But at last there 
was a little movement. She seemed to ask for 
something, and Lois bent her ear to listen, and 
heard her own name breathed. She took hold 
of the hot, wasted hand gently, and said in clear, 
soft tones, “ What is it, mamma ? I am here.” 

The doctor started up, trembling. He had 
not expected Lois to speak to her mother. They 
had not told her quite all, that for two days now 
she had known no one; she was either sunk in 
stupor, or in the mild ravings of delirium. 
Would that loved voice pierce the poor, be- 
numbed brain, and if it did, what would be the 
result? He held his breath. 

Slowly the heavy eyelids lifted, and the luster- 
less eyes fell full on Lois bending over her. The 
vacant stare changed slowly, so slowly, to the 
21 


322 HER COLLEGE DAYS 

doctor and Lois watching breathlessly. The 
eyes seemed to be gathering intelligence as they 
gazed wistfully at Lois ; then the dull cloud 
came over them again. They were fast slipping 
back into vacancy. 

The doctor attempted to make a sign to Lois 
not to try to bring her back ; it was better to 
wait until she returned without effort to con- 
sciousness. That delicate balance-wheel of the 
reason must not be touched by rude hands, lest 
it forever lose its equilibrium. But Lois did not 
see him nor hear him. Her whole soul was in 
that look, trying to draw her mother back to life 
and reason. When she saw her slipping away 
again into that dark realm where she could not 
reach her, she uttered one low cry, “ mamma !” 

Instantly the eyes that were fast closing lifted. 
A rapturous light that w r as almost dazzling 
sprang into them. 

“ Lois !” she cried, and raised her arms to 
clasp her darling. 

Lois’s head was on her mother’s breast ; her 
mother’s arms were about her. Not another 
word had either one uttered ; they both lay 
perfectly still. Then the doctor, who was in an 
agony of fear for his patient, came forward. 


BACK TO LIFE 323 

He spoke to her as if she had never been any- 
thing but rational. 

“ Mrs. Darcy, you must let Lois go now. She 
is tired with her long journey. She will come 
back presently when she has had something to 
eat, and sit beside you until bedtime. Lois, my 
child, you must go down-stairs and get some 
dinner. In fifteen minutes you may return, but 
not before.” 

Mrs, Darcy whispered “ Go,” and loosened 
her clasp. 

Lois rose, white but smiling, “ I will be back 
in a little while, mamma darling.” 

And she kissed her and hurried from the 
room. It had been almost more than Lois could 
stand, and the doctor had feared an irrepressi- 
ble outburst, and so he had sent her away. 

In the hall she met Mrs. Colton, and fell 
into her arms, shaking from head to foot with 
long sobs. Mrs. Colton took her quickly to her 
own room, and there, when she had at last 
soothed her, and persuaded her, for her mother’s 
sake, to eat a little, the doctor came in, wiping 
his brow with his handkerchief. 

“ It is the most astonishing thing I have ever 
known, Lois, I should have said that your 


324 


HER COLLEGE LAYS 


method of meeting your mother quietly and 
naturally would have killed her. I was never 
so frightened in my life, as when I heard you 
speak to her ; and when she was going back to 
unconsciousness, and you recalled her with that 
heart-rending ‘ mamma/ I said ‘ It is all over, 
Lois has killed her mother.’ But, my dear, I 
believe you have saved her. She is certainly no 
worse, and I almost think she is quieter, and her 
sleep more natural. You are what she needed, 
Lois, and she was dying with longing for you.” 

Yet life seemed to hang by a slender thread 
for many days. There was still the stupor, still 
the delirium, and she did not again apparently 
recognize Lois. But if Lois sat beside her and 
held her hand, she was always quiet and seemed 
to sleep. Lois had sent a little note to Dr. 
Seton, enclosing a check and her thanks, the 
day after her arrival ; and another short one to 
Margaret, and one to Miss Belden ; and she had 
received kind, loving, sympathetic responses 
from all three. She had also written a very 
brief one to Mr. Hamilton. It began formally 
“My dear Mr. Hamilton,” and was signed 
“Yours sincerely, Lois Darcy,” and there were 
only three lines besides : 


BACK TO LIFE 


325 


“ I arrived safely and on time. My mother 
is very ill. Pray for us both.” 

But to Mr. Hamilton every letter was golden ; 
and that she had asked him to pray for them 
was the most sacred trust she could have re- 
posed in him. It made him a better man than 
he had ever been before. Night and morning 
and many times during the day, he uttered a 
fervent prayer for the life of the one and the 
peace of the other. Lois received his answer 
very speedily, full of kind, comforting words, 
and many expressions of tender regard for her 
mother. He evidently did not expect her to 
reply, but he asked her to let him know when 
her mother was better. No one could be more 
anxious than he. 

Those were long, long days to Lois, and 
between hope and fear her courage and strength 
were almost failing. Not yet had she learned 
to say “Thy will be done.” Not yet could she 
pray any farther than “ Lord, save my mother!” 
On the morning of the 25th she was up early. 
It was a perfect May morning. The birds in the 
cottonwoods and sweet gums were singing a 
jubilee, and the morning air, coming through 
her open windows, was full of the odors of roses 


326 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


and honeysuckle. She opened her little book, 
she read it every morning now, and behold it 
was the 25th, and she had come again upon the 
lesson : “ Thy will be done.” For the first time 
she fully realized how obstinately she was pray- 
ing, “ My will be done.” Her heart was melted. 
She sank upon her knees, “ Father, if it be pos- 
sible, let this cup pass from me ; nevertheless, 
not as I will, but as Thou wilt !” When at last 
she rose, she had learned the lesson : “ Lord, Thy 
will be done in father, mother, child ; in every- 
thing and everywhere.” 

She went down-stairs to her mother’s room 
with a peace in her heart she had never quite 
known before. Dr. Colton was alone there, and 
he called her aside. 

“Lois,” he said, “I think there is a great 
change at hand, and you must have courage to 
meet it, whatever it may be. I believe it will be 
a change for the better. I want you to go down- 
stairs and get some breakfast immediately. 
Don’t wait for the rest of us ; and then come 
back and take your accustomed seat by your 
mother’s side. When she wakes from this sleep 
I want you to be the first thing she sees. Now 
§ 0 .” 


BACK TO LIFE 


327 


“Must I go ? I do not need any breakfast. 5 ’ 

“ Yes, you must, and you must eat all you 
possibly can . 55 

Lpis hurried away, and in ten minutes she 
was back, and took her seat praying, oh, how 
fervently : “ If it be possible, let this cup pass 
from me . 55 It was nearly an hour before her 
mother moved ; then she opened her eyes slowly, 
and they fell on Lois. 

“ Lois, darling, when did you come ?” she said 
in a weak voice, but in a perfectly natural tone. 

This was her real mother. The other mother 
who had seemed to recognize her, she knew now, 
as she felt then, was still wandering in cloud- 
land, even when she seemed to know her ; but 
there was no mistaking the sweet, familiar smile 
and dear tones this time. A great wave of 
thankfulness rushed over Lois, as she knelt by 
her mother, and kissed her hand and talked to 
her in a low, cheerful voice, until the doctor, who 
had to turn away to the window to hide his own 
emotion, said they had talked long enough. 

“ Mrs. Darcy must be quiet, Lois ; run away 
now, and in two hours you may come back . 55 

Long, sweet days of convalescence followed, 
when every day a little change for the better was 


328 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


apparent, until there came a time when Mrs. 
Darcy could sit up in her easy chair, and Lois, 
sitting at her feet, as of old, told her all about 
the concert, and about Mr. Hamilton coming 
with her as far as St. Albans, and about every- 
thing that had happened in Norwood. 

When her mother was really better, she had 
written Mr. Hamilton another note, telling him 
only that ; and again there had come a prompt 
and lengthy reply, full of his delight and 
messages to her mother, and a little Gale and 
Houghton gossip. 

And then, by the last of June, Dr. Colton said 
all that Mrs. Darcy needed now was complete 
change of air and scene, and as her physician he 
recommended a European trip. A sea voyage 
would do more for her than all his medicines ; 
and Lois, the careful one, who never liked to 
have her mother touch her capital, was now more 
than willing that she should make great inroads 
into it, if it would only bring back the roses and 
the strength that still lingered. 


CHAPTER, XXII 


IN BRIGHTER CLIMES 

It was late in August. For two months they 
had been wandering slowly, aimlessly, and delight- 
fully through England and Switzerland. They 
were sitting in the beautiful gardens of the Hotel 
Beaurivage at Ouchy, watching the boats with 
their lateen sails — the first Lois had ever seen. 
They looked to her like great sea-gulls resting 
lightly on the water, with wings raised, ready at 
any moment to soar away into the azure above 
them, that was hardly more limpid and exquisite 
in tint than the azure below. 

It was while they were sitting there that Mrs. 
Darcy was seized with a great longing to visit a 
pension on Mount Pilatus, kept by two Swiss 
dames, the neatest and nicest and kindest of 
spinsters, where she had spent some happy days 
when she was a girl. So Lois had written to 
find out if they were still in the land of the liv- 
ing and still keeping a pension, and had directed 
the answer to be sent to Interlachen. They found 

329 


330 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


it awaiting them there. “ The Mesdemoiselles 
de Bremond were still in the same spot, and 
would be most happy to welcome Madame Darcy, 
whom they remembered well, and her no doubt 
charming daughter/’ 

So, as soon as they could tear themselves away 
from the mystic spell the Jungfrau was fast weav- 
ing about them, they had crossed the Brunig 
Pass, and taking the little steamer from Alpnach 
Gestad, sailed over the deep, cold, blue waters of 
the mountain-girded lake to Hergiswyl, at the 
foot of Mount Pilatus. There they had found the 
friendliest welcome awaiting them from the two 
ladies, now fast growing old, but still able to keep 
the neatest and most thoroughly comfortable 
house Mrs. Darcy and Lois had found anywhere, 
and they determined to spend the remainder of 
the summer there, making little excursions to 
Lucerne, the Rigi, Tell’s Chapel, in whatever di- 
rection they might feel like going ; but keeping 
their headquarters at the de Bremond pension . 

It was the day after their arrival ; they were 
sitting in some garden chairs, on a kind of 
grassy plateau, well shaded from the afternoon 
sun, and commanding a magnificent view of the 
lake and its encircling mountains. Opposite 


IN BRIGHTER CLIMES 


331 


them, almost as if they could touch it with their 
hand, lay Lucerne, its great hotels fronting the 
water, more picturesque from a distance than at 
closer range. A little lower down was the Rigi, 
and they could see a train climbing its steep 
sides, at what looked, from their point of view, a 
most perilous angle. Further down they could 
see the arms into which the lake divided, and the 
frowning mountains that gathered close about 
them. As they sat there, enjoying it so thor- 
oughly that Mrs. Darcy said she did not believe 
she cared for any better way to see the lake than 
from their own little plot of garden, a maid in 
a picturesque Swiss costume brought them two 
letters — one for Mrs. Darcy and one for Lois. 

“ Who is yours from, mamma ?” Lois said, 
when she had read hers. 

“ From Mrs. Harding/’ said her mother, look- 
ing up with a smile. “ She says we can have 
our old rooms on Elm Street.” 

“Why, mamma, I did not know you had 
written to her.” 

“ Yes, dear, a month ago. This is forwarded 
from Geneva.” 

“ And are you sure, mamma, you want to go 
there?” 


332 


HER COLLEGE DAYS 


“ Very sure, darling ; and I don’t think we 
will make any mistakes this time.” 

Lois was silent a moment. “ Mamma,” she 
said at last, “ do you know I believe we misun- 
derstood each other last winter? I thought you 
were homesick and longing for St. Mark’s, and 
it almost broke my heart to think you could get 
along without me more easily than you could 
without your friends at home. And now I think 
that very likely you were doing it all for me, 
thinking I would be happier on the campus 
among the girls.” 

A great and beautiful light came into Mrs. 
Darcy’s eyes. 

“ O Lois darling ! we did misunderstand. It 
was the idea that you could be happy without 
me, perhaps happier than with me, that almost 
killed me.” 

“ O mamma ! mamma !” and Lois seized her 
mother’s hand and pressed it fondly. It was 
the only caress she could indulge in in that open 
garden. “ How could we have been so mistaken ? 
How could I distrust you, the dearest, most un- 
selfish mother in the world ? And how could 
you doubt your Lois?” 

They sat silent a few minutes, both feeling that 


IN BRIGHTER, CLIMES 383 

a little mist had cleared away between them, and 
at last they were perfectly happy. 

“ Who is your letter from, Lois ?” Mrs. Darcy 
asked, suddenly. 

“From Mr. Hamilton,” said Lois, with a 
bright blush. “ He says he has been in England 
for some time with the Houghton Glee Club. 
He inquired where we were, at the London 
address I gave him, and they told him, and he 
is coming to see us very soon. But you can read 
his letter.” And she handed it to her mother, 
and Mrs. Darcy read it. 

It was brief, and a model of propriety, but 
signed, “Ever faithfully yours, Jack Hamilton.” 

“ I am glad he is coming,” Mrs. Darcy said, 
and there was a little flush on her face, too. 
“ But, Lois,” as she looked at the date, “ this 
must have been delayed somewhere. I should 
not wonder if he would be here very soon.” 

Just then a little steamer put out from Lucerne 
for Hergiswyl. They watched it with interest 
come puffing across the lake, crowded with pas- 
sengers. From where they sat, they could dis- 
tinguish them quite well. There were some 
soldiers in brilliant regimentals, a queer old 
market-woman with her baskets, and, in the 


384 


HER COLLEGE BAYS 


very bow of the boat was a tall man with a 
field-glass, apparently looking at them. 

“Lois,” said her mother, in sudden excite- 
ment, “ I believe that is Mr. Hamilton.” 

“ Do you think so ? It does look like him,” 
said Lois. “ If I were sure, I would wave my 
handkerchief.” 

The boat was coming up to the wharf now, 
and they could see more distinctly. He was 
putting away his glass, preparatory to getting off. 

“ O mamma ! I am sure it is he ! Shall I 
wave?” 

“ I think you may ; it certainly cannot do any 
harm.” 

And Lois waved her handkerchief, and there 
was no mistaking the way the hat came off in 
return, with a wide, graceful flourish. Lois 
could even recognize the fair hair, long and 
wavy — regular foot-ball hair — and she almost 
fancied she could see the same look in the 
smiling blue eyes that she had seen in them as 
he stood on the St. Albans platform, more than 
three months before, and waved her good-bye. 
********* 

Mr. Hamilton had been with them a week, 
and that period marked a wonderful improve- 


m BRIGHTER CLIMES 


335 


ment in Mrs. Darcy. The pale, thin cheeks 
were rounded and rosy, her eyes had their old- 
time brightness, her spirits had recovered their 
old tone, and she was ready for any little expedi- 
tion either Lois or Mr. Hamilton proposed. The 
night before they had spent on the Rigi, and 
they had the unusual good fortune to see an 
unclouded sunrise. This very afternoon Mr. 
Hamilton had rowed them over to Lucerne, to 
see Thorwaldsen’s Lion and to hear the grand 
organ concert, and now she was sitting out in 
the warm moonlight with Mr. Hamilton, feeling 
perfectly fresh and unfatigued, and quite ready 
for any number of expeditions on the morrow. 
Whether it was Mr. Hamilton’s strong and 
cheery presence or the perfect understanding 
which she and Lois had reached at last, or both, 
certain it was that the long-delayed health had 
returned with a rush, and she could no longer, 
as she said, make even the slightest pretense of 
being an invalid. 

“ I don’t know which of you I am the most 
jealous of,” remarked Lois, stepping out upon 
the piazza, “ I think it is very unkind of 
mamma to monopolize the only young man 
in the pension, and I think it is equally un- 


336 


HEU college bays 


kind of you, Mr. Hamilton, to win my mother’s 
confidence away from me. I am certainly 
jealous of you both.” 

“ She has no reason to be ; has she, Mrs. Darcy ?” 
he said. And then to Lois, “ The only young 
man in the pension has your mother’s permis- 
sion to take you for a moonlight row on those 
sparkling blue waters,” with a wave of his hand 
toward the lake below. “ Will you go ?” 

Mrs. Darcy watched them as they went down 
the steep path toward the landing, talking mer- 
rily together, for Lois had lost all feeling of 
restraint with him now. They disappeared from 
sight among the shadows around the landing, 
but in a few minutes the little skiff shot out into 
the strong moonlight, and Lois waved her hand- 
kerchief as a signal that she could see her 
mother. Mrs. Darcy waved hers in return, and 
then fell to musing on her darling’s future, 
and the smiles that hovered round her mouth 
and deepened in her eyes showed that her 
thoughts were happy, hopeful ones. 


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